The Boy Next Door
by shelivesfree
Summary: When Padme Naberrie returns to her home after 10 years, the last thing she expects to find is her childhood friend, Anakin Skywalker; the boy next door. But 10 years is a long time, and he has changed more than she is prepared for. How will she react when little Ani is now a grown man, impulsive, handsome and completely infatuated with her? Modern AU.
1. Prologue

**_A/N: Hey guys. Sorry I've been a bit inactive lately. I'm going through a Star Wars phase and have just discovered my new favourite pairing; Anidala! I know the movies didn't do them justice, but I find their story so tragic and romantic and beautiful; a little Romeo-and-Juilet like, and, honestly, I'm kind of in love with Anakin Skywalker (he's just so broody and reckless and passionate and I love it!)._  
**

 ** _Seeing as the prequels were a bit of a disappointment in terms of trying to portray a realistic love story between Anakin and Padme, I decided to try and recreate their story in this modern AU fic. The story is written in Padme's POV, mainly because I feel as though her love for Anakin was down-played in the movies, when it was actually just as strong as Anakin's love for her. She's a politician, she's good at hiding her emotions and keeping face, but I wanted to portray what she feels on the inside._**

 ** _Anyway, enough of the rant. I hope you enjoy! xx_**

* * *

Padme watched the workmen from the moving van out of her bedroom window as she sat at her desk. The new neighbours had moved in that morning, and made so much noise that Padme had been forced to wake up early, even though it was the weekend. From her upstairs perch, she had gathered that her neighbours consisted of a single mother and her young son, if Padme guessed correctly, and she was fairly good at guessing. Though she had no desire to meet her neighbours, her mother had insisted on baking some cookies for the young family, and it was Padme's job to deliver them and welcome them to the neighbourhood, something she was none too thrilled about, because she didn't see how homemade cookies would be beneficial to any new family, but Padme wasn't one to argue with her mother.

The aroma of freshly baked cookies wafted enticingly upstairs to her bedroom, and Padme followed the scent, descending the stairs in rather a hurry, for who could resist freshly baked cookies, the chocolate chip kind with a hint of peanut butter. At that moment, when she entered the kitchen, she felt jealous of her new neighbours, for her mother's cookie recipe was a family secret and Padme's personal favourite. She was in her right mind to help herself to a few on the way, but one sharp look from her mother made her rethink her actions. Perhaps her neighbours would let her sample a few when she distributed them.

Basket of cookies in hand, she skipped out the door and down the path, careful to avoid the workers that were moving sofas and bookshelves and bed frames. The garden had been well kept by the previous owners; the lawn green and lush, various shrubs and flower bushes lining the sides of the house. The woman was standing in the doorway, chatting to a workman about a television, when Padme approached her. She stopped her conversation mid-way and gazed down at Padme, soft green eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled.

"Hello, child," she said sweetly. "What is it I can help you with."

Having been brought up with impeccable manners, Padme lowered her head in respect and smiled at the woman. "I'm sorry to interrupt you," she apologised, "but I live next door and my mother baked you some cookies. Welcome to the neighbourhood."

The woman's face broke out into a charming smile and she took the basket from Padme's outstretched hands. "Why, thank you dear, that is most thoughtful of you. Please give your mother my thanks." As she lifted the towel that covered them, she hummed, "these smell delicious. You really shouldn't have."

Padme shook her head politely. "It was no trouble, ma'am," she insisted. _Please let me have one._ Her brown eyes followed the basket hungrily as the woman re-covered them with the towel.

"What is your name, dear?"

"Padme."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Padme. I'm Shmi Skywalker. Just a moment, I'll get my son. He'd love to meet you."

Hurrying inside, Padme heard Shmi call out " _Ani!_ " as she waited on the doorstep. Moments later, a young boy appeared beside Shmi as they walking down the hallway towards her. He couldn't have been older than ten, with scruffy blond hair and sharp blue eyes. There was dirt and grease on his face and hands and underneath his fingernails, as though he had been fixing something.

"Padme, this is my son, Anakin. Ani, this is our neighbour Padme."

The boy eyed her with wide eyes, almost wonder, and Padme couldn't help but smile at him. "Nice to meet you, Anakin," she said. He was several inches shorter than her, but there was an air of confidence in the boy that far exeeded her own.

"Are you an angel?" he asked, bluntly.

Stunned by his sudden question, Padme took a step back and raised her eyebrows, flicking her eyes between Shmi and Anakin. "Sorry?"

"Are you an angel?" the boy repeated, crossing his arms. "There's this light around you. And you're definitely beautiful enough."

Shmi laughed softly, ruffling her son's hair. "Anakin, don't frighten the poor girl."

Padme blushed. "No, I'm no angel," she said. "I'm just a normal girl."

She stayed for a little while longer, eventually sneaking a cookie from Anakin, much to her delight, before she headed back home. As she sat in her room, she thought back to that little boy next door. He was different, she sensed something powerful in him; a strength that she did not possess, even though she was several years older than him. Padme would never forget the day she met Anakin Skywalker.


	2. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Now, the real story begins. Xx_**

* * *

It was summer break. Padme had finally come home after years of being at Harvard. She was excited to see her mother again, as when her parents had divorced, they had rarely seen each other. Most breaks, Padme spent with her father, who lived in Boston, which was closer than Minnesota. But this year, she had decided to return to her childhood home.

The taxi made a left turn down her street, and she smiled out the window as she recalled countless memories of playing in the streets with some children from the neighbourhood, and that spot where she'd had her first kiss. It had been with Robbie Marvais when she was thirteen and he fifteen, behind the back of back of his house during a game of spotlight. Their lips had touched in a clumsy, awkward way, noses bumping together, teeth getting in the way. Padme gave a small laugh and touched a finger to her lips. How quickly time flies.

The taxi soon pulled into her driveway, to reveal her mother running towards her, grin wide on her round, heart shaped face. Padme beamed as she stepped out of the vehicle and into her mother's embrace. It had been far too long. Though she was twenty-four, she was still a few inches shorter than her mother. It was something that she had always disliked. Being small made it difficult for people to take her seriously, especially at Harvard. She was studying to become a politician, and she had several strong, concreted views about how the government should operate. During class debates, however, people often talked over the top of her or dismissed her views immediately because she was a small, _fragile_ woman. It irritated her to no end.

"Padme, I've missed you," her mother wept into her curly, chestnut locks. Padme tightened her arms around her and nodded into her shoulder.

"I've missed you too, mom," she said as tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes. They pulled apart after several minutes and pressed their foreheads together.

"Come on, let's take your things up to your room."

Her bedroom was exactly the same as how she remembered it. Her single bed was pushed up against the wall, her desk against the window. It would take some getting used to sleeping in a single bed again; her dormitory was larger at Harvard because she was a graduate student, so she had managed to smuggle in her double bed.

She placed her suitcase on her bed and sat down next to it. As she began to unpack her things and fold them into neat, orderly piles on the quilt, she heard a loud, clanging noise, metal on metal, coming from outside. Curious thing as she was, Padme stood up and took a look out her window. There, below, in the neighbour's front yard, a young man was bent over a motorbike, fixing it from what Padme could tell. He was shirtless, tan skin glistening with sweat from the heat of the midday sun, dark blond hair tied back into a small, loose ponytail at the base of his neck.

Padme gulped and shifted uncomfortably as she watched the stranger, the way his back rippled with muscles, the way his arms flexed with each movement, the way he wiped his brow with the back of his hand and stretched up, revealing a taut, flat abdomen and chiseled chest. She couldn't help but stare at him, she was a woman after all, and it was instinctual to admire the male physique, especially when such a grand specimen was presented before her in pure, unadulterated masculinity. Warmth flooded to her cheeks, but she couldn't look away, no matter how guilty she felt that she was spying on some poor, unsuspecting individual.

As though sensing her gaze, he looked up, meeting her with piercing, crystal blue eyes. Padme started and blinked several times, unable to believe what she was seeing. Those eyes – surely not, they couldn't be – could they? So familiar, they were, that intensity, that lazy, relaxed smirk.

 _"Ani?"_ she called out in surprise.

A grin broke out on his face and he stood fully upright, crossing his arms over his well-defined pectorals.

"Enjoying the view, Padme?" he called back, his voice lit with humour, words drenched in sarcasm.

Though his words spoke the truth, Padme did not want to grant him that satisfaction. Not yet, anyway.

"Little boys do not interest me, Anakin," she retorted back, crossing her arms. "You're still only twelve or something, aren't you?"

He laughed, such an easy sound it was, falling from his lips like sunlight, as he threw his head back, eyes fluttering in lazy half-moons. Padme squirmed again. Why was she feeling like this? It was only Anakin Skywalker, the little boy next door with an obsession with mechanics. When had he grown up and gotten so… _attractive_? She grimaced even as she thought of the word. He was far too young for her, it wasn't right for her to think of him that way.

"Do I look twelve to you, Padme?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow, leaning his tall frame against the motorbike in such a casual manner, crossing his legs at the ankles. Padme wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face, but another part of her wondered what his lips would feel like against her skin. She hurriedly threw that thought from her mind. He had a point; he certainly looked older than twelve. She guessed he was around eighteen or so, still too young for her. That arrogant air he had exuded when he was a child still prevailed, and had grown even stronger in his age, due to his obvious good looks. Padme wondered if he had changed at all, or if he was still the same, little boy she remembered.

"You've gotten taller," she conceded, not willing to give him anything more than that.

He smirked and she felt her insides quiver. "Is that all?"

Shaking her head, Padme sighed. "Anakin," she told him, "don't grow up too fast."

"I'm already grown up," he retorted. "Now are you going to come down here or are we going to continuing shouting at each other? This is rather Romeo-and-Juliet-esque, though, don't you think?"

And there it was, that charm and innuendo that made up 49% of Anakin Skywalker. The other 51% was arrogance and cocky, self-assurance. He had used such tricks on her when he was a child, and it seemed that he hadn't grown out of that habit. She couldn't help but laugh in spite of herself.

"You read Romeo and Juliet?" she gasped, disbelieving.

Chuckling darkly, Anakin shook his head. "Nah, just watched the movie. Claire Danes was hot."

Padme rolled her eyes at him. "Leonardo DiCaprio was pretty hot, himself," she admitted, then left the window, hurrying downstairs. Her heart was racing – _why was that?_ – like she couldn't wait to see Anakin face to face, to talk to him and be in his presence. It was confusing. She had known Anakin for years; he had always been that little boy next door. What had changed? A part of her knew, but she buried under denial, unwilling to open that box until she absolutely had to.

By the time she reached Anakin, she was slightly short of breath, but kept her demeanour composed in case the young mechanic had any clever remarks to throw her way. He rose to his full height as she approached, towering over her five foot three frame by at least two heads. _Gosh,_ she thought to herself, _he's got to be over six foot, now._

"My goodness, you've grown," she remarked. "I remember when _I_ was the taller one."

He grinned at her, all self-assured and easy, "You've grown too." Blue eyes twinkled in the light of the sun as he gazed at her; intense and slightly frightening, but it caused another reaction inside Padme that she wasn't entirely comfortable with. "More beautiful, I mean," he added, the corners of his lips twitching.

The sight of it made Padme blush. He shouldn't be saying these things to her. _Little Ani,_ she tried desperately to remind herself, as though the sight of this grown man, half-naked and shining with perspiration, and so calm and at ease with his flirtations, had no effect on her – which was a total lie, but Padme felt like she needed to deny the fact, to make it feel less uncomfortable.

"Anakin," her voice was part warning, part pleading as his name spilled from her lips. "Don't look at me like that."

Intense blue eyes twinkled at her in the light of the sun; darker around the border of the irises and slowly fading lighter as it neared the pupil. Padme was transfixed by them. He'd always had beautiful eyes.

"Why not?" he quipped, light-hearted and full of mockery.

Padme swallowed loudly and summoned her resolve – buried as it was beneath this sudden, unexpected desire to take Anakin's bottom lip between her teeth – and boldly continued, "It makes me feel uncomfortable." It wasn't completely a lie. Anakin did make her feel uncomfortable; like she was no longer in control of her feelings.

If anything, Anakin seemed to be amused by it all, as though it was his intention all along, to make her feel uncomfortable. It irritated her.

"Sorry Padme," he said, not sorry at all, not even trying to feign sincerity for her sake.

The air was thick with tension and heat and Padme averted her eyes, unable to think clearly through the haze.

"What are you doing?" she asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

Sliding his palm along the curve of the motorbike seat, his eyes flickered down to it, suddenly animated in a way that was familiar; the way he used to when he was a child, talking about his love for fixing things, whether it be engines, bikes or even the simplest stereo.

"Fixing my bike," he explained. "Had a crash a few weeks back. Hopefully it'll be back on the road soon."

Padme shook her head. "I can't believe your mother lets you ride those things."

He shrugged, a casual raise of his broad shoulders, that dark smirk returning as he drawled, "I like it; the danger, the adrenaline, that rush – you know? It's... exhilarating." Eyes locked onto hers for a moment and she was unable to look away, didn't want to look away. "I should take you for a ride sometime. You haven't been home in ten years, the town has changed a bit."

"Has it really been ten years?"

"Yep," Anakin nodded. "If you want to be specific, it's been ten years and three months, but I rounded down."

The ease of him, the obvious way he told insinuated that he'd been thinking about her, took her completely by surprise. "You've been keeping track," she told him, quirking an eyebrow.

"I just have a good memory," he replied. "I remember the day you packed up and left for boarding school. I never saw you again."

Padme remembered that day. Her parents had just got divorced and her father was forcing her to go to a private, all girls' boarding school in the mid-west – who had a reputation for pumping out Harvard graduates. She'd hardly seen her mother, and then had graduated and gone straight to Harvard. She hadn't been back home since.

"I remember." She knew that he had harboured feelings for her when he was a young boy – subtly had never been his strong point. Although Padme found it endearing, he was five years her junior, and she figured it was just a silly little crush. He would move on, and find a girl his own age. They were different people, and their lives would go down different paths. She had never expected to see him again; he had always been the little boy next door – cute and annoying and funny and reckless. Now, her image of him was conflicted by what was standing before her. He was not a little boy any more, and she wasn't a teenager. They were man and woman. The realisation was more than she could take.

"But hey, you're a Harvard graduate now!" Anakin grinned, lightening the mood. "It can't have been all that bad."

Padme laughed, "Not graduate, yet. I've got one more semester. You're still at school, aren't you?"

It was Anakin's turn to laugh. "How young do you think I am, Padme?"

"Young enough."

"I'm nineteen, graduated last year. Spent most of this year as a training mechanic." The pride in his voice was evident, his words thick with it. He cocked an eyebrow, almost bating her to test him.

"Wow. So you really are grown up." _He's an adult,_ Padme thought to herself. _We both are._

He smiled at her, a dark smile full of hidden meanings and promises, one eyebrow cocked into a slant. The wind loosened several strands of his dark blond hair, and it fell deliciously in front of his eyes, obscuring them slightly. Being in his presence confused her; made her feel uncomfortable and yet strangely exhilarated. She couldn't think properly.

"Excuse me, Ani," she said after a moment. "I must be going home. I've got to finish unpacking."

Anakin's face fell a little, his smile dropped at the corners, but he nodded his head. "It was nice seeing you again, Padme. We'll have to do this again."

She turned to leave, the smallest of grins on her face. "Maybe you can take me for that ride sometime," she looked back at him and smirked.


	3. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I'm so surprised that this story has gained so much popularity and lovely feedback already! My plan for this story is a slow courtship between Ani and Padme, but heavily drenched in sexual tension and innuendo. I apologise in advance if their relationship takes a little while to develop, it's all part of the plan I assure you. I hope I live up to your expectations!_**

 ** _This chapter contains mature themes. I'm trying to realistically recreate the sexual tension between them, unlike the awkward, forced relationship we saw in Episode II. Let's not forget, they were both in lust with each other, before they were in love... at least, that's how interpreted it. They are both young and attractive; lust is a certainty. Love, on the other hand, is much more complicated. I hope you enjoy xx_**

* * *

Padme was restless that night. Her mind had betrayed her, and was constantly thrusting images of the past in front of her sleepy eyes while she tried to dream, digging up her memories of ten years prior.

...

 _"Do you really have to go?" Anakin sat on the ground beside her, staring glumly at the ground while one hand picked at a blade of grass._

 _Padme sighed and placed her hand on the young boy's shoulder, "I don't want to go, Ani," she told him, truthfully, "but my father is insistent. He wants me to get a good education."_

 _The boy pouted. "But your my friend," he protested._

 _"I'm not your only friend, Anakin," Padme told him. "I am older than you, it's my time to grow up. Yours will come too."_

 _Her kind words did little to reassure him. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him. The two of them had grown quiet close over the course of the year. She felt strongly for him, he was a dear young boy, and a loyal friend. She would miss his company, even if he was much younger than her. There was an air to him that was older than his years._

 _"Will I ever see you again?" he asked softly, finally looking at her with his crystal blue eyes, dark with despair and anger._

 _Padme didn't know the answer to that. The future was too difficult to predict, ever changing. She wanted to go into politics; had known that from a very young age. Her career could take her anywhere. And Anakin was still so very young, only nine years old. There was so much for him to accomplish._

 _"I hope so, Ani. I hope so."_

 _"I made you something," he said after a short while. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a necklace, with a strange figurine dangling from the thin, silver chain. He put it into her hand and smiled shyly at her._

 _It looked as though it had been carved from marble, and was as smooth as bone. The carvings were elegant swirls of mere millimetre grooves that sliced through the marble delicately._

 _"It's beautiful."_

 _Anakin grinned at the compliment. "I made one for my mother's birthday, and thought I would make two, one for you as well."_

 _"Thank you."_

 _She stood up to leave, and Anakin hugged her, his head coming to her shoulder. "You won't forget about me, will you?" he asked in a small voice._

 _Patting his back warmly, Padme smiled. "I could never forget meeting you, Anakin Skywalker."_

 _..._

Sitting up in bed, Padme rubbed her eyes tiredly and yawned. Her mind had never been this active before. It was making it difficult to sleep. She reached for her lamp and turned it on, the warm yellow glow bathing the room in a dull light. She remembered her last day with Anakin clearly, as though it was only yesterday. It had been a sad day, for the both of them. But Padme had soon recovered. Her new boarding school life was exciting and interesting, and she embraced the challenged wholeheartedly. In a way, she felt a little guilty at having enjoyed herself too much, without giving one thought to young Anakin Skywalker, when it was clear that he had been thinking about her. But she couldn't help it.

Now Anakin was back in her life again, even if only as her neighbour. She was not accustomed to his presence, the feelings he elicited inside her were confusing and intense and she couldn't make sense of them. Sighing, she rubbed her temples, and pulled her chestnut curls back into a loose ponytail. She needed to think, and get some fresh air.

The moon was high in the sky, a bright crescent, smiling down at her as she walked the streets. The air was humid and thick, but it offered the peace and quiet she had been seeking. That was, until she saw the light on in Anakin's garage, and heard him hammering away. Frowning, she approached him.

"What on earth are you doing?" she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

He looked up from his motorbike, face dripping with sweat, which pooled above his upper lip and in the creases of his clavicles. Initially, he frowned at her, until he recognised her, and then his face grew softer and that trademark smirk of his returned. "I could ask you the same question."

Fair point. "I couldn't sleep. Needed some fresh air."

Anakin's smirk turned into an expression of concern. "What's troubling you?" he asked, voice soft. It was a reminder of how much he still cared for her.

"Nothing," Padme assured him. "I haven't slept in this house for years, I'm just not used to it."

"I'm fixing my bike," he responded to her earlier question.

"In the middle of the night?"

He shrugged. "I get carried away. Lost track of the time, I guess."

Padme laughed. "If I knew any better, I'd say you were waiting up for me?"

"Are you saying I'm following you, Padme?"

She stood taller, keeping her eyes on him. Her voice wasn't accusatorial, but it wasn't exactly friendly, either. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Anakin turned back to his motorbike, a relaxed grin on his face. "Don't flatter yourself. I spend most of my spare time fixing things. Obi-wan often encourages me to get out more."

"Obi-wan?"

"My - ," he began, as if searching for the right word, " – he's my boss, but he's more than that. I met him when I was still in high-school. He's… almost like a father figure to me, I guess; seeing as I've never had a father. He's a good man, and an even greater mechanic."

Padme smiled sweetly at him. "That's wonderful, Ani."

Anakin leaned his hip against the side of his bike, fingering the smooth handles. Padme couldn't help but admire his long, slender fingers, the way the tendons of his hand moved under his golden skin, the layer of grease that lined his fingernails. She wanted to reach out and touch those hands, hold them in her own, feel them slide across her cheek, tangle themselves into her hair, clench at her waist… she steeled herself before her thoughts gave her away. A blush rose to her cheeks and she sincerely hoped that Anakin wouldn't notice.

"He wants me to become an engineer, he thinks I have a unique ability with machines and engines. But I'm not sure…." His voice trailed off, all the cockiness and self-assurance gone and replaced with an unfamiliar insecurity.

"Not sure of what?" She approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He made room for her, and she perched on the seat of the bike.

"Even if I was smart enough to get into a university, there is no way I could afford it," he replied sadly, a hint of venom in his voice. "My mother works two jobs and she gets practically nothing for it. It's almost as though she is a _slave_! And the money I make at the shop is not nearly enough to cover tuition."

Padme bit her lip and reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, trying to ignore the electricity that spread up her arm from his touch. "I'm sure you'll find away," she insisted, trying for optimism. "Surely, if it is your dream – "

" – Not all of us are lucky to have successful professors as parents, Padme," Anakin snapped, jaw set and eyes narrowed. She withdrew her hand quickly, his words stinging. Immediately regretting his reaction, he reached for hers again, staring up at her imploringly. "I – I'm sorry," he muttered, completely sincere. "I didn't mean that. It's just – it's hard, y'know?"

She didn't answer. Anakin's situation was something she was unfamiliar with. Her family had always been fairly wealthy – her father was a professor at Harvard, majoring in economics. Because of this, Padme and her older sister Sola had received a privileged upbringing, something Anakin was jealous of. His father had been absent for the whole of his life, and poor Shmi Skywalker had been left to raise Anakin on her own. It had been a tough life for both of them.

" _Anakin_."

He squeezed her hand, flashing her a charming, reassuring smile, in an effort to assuage her. "Don't worry about me, alright."

Padme kept hold of his hand and stared around the garage. Multitudes of engine parts were strewn over the cement floor in some sort of organised chaos – things she didn't recognise, tools that looked far too dangerous to not be locked up somewhere – and an assemblage of half-finished projects. Over in the far left corner, obscured by a sheet of stained cloth, was something that resembled a human head. Curious, Padme stood up and slowly walked towards it. Anakin saw where she was headed and uttered a warning of " _don't_!" but Padme ignored him and pulled back the sheet, where she gasped. It was a robot, an incomplete one at that, but the sight of it caught her unawares.

" _Ani_ …" she whispered in astonishment, turning to face him and grinning proudly – he was merely three steps away from her, hand outstretched as if to stop her from unveiling his project, as if it was some sort of secret. "You didn't tell me you built _robots!"_

Hands thrust deep into the pockets of his faded jeans, he stared at the ground and kicked idly at a nearby nail with his toe. His insecurities had returned and Padme marvelled at the sudden change, how quickly it had resurfaced, how the boy before her was such a victim to his emotions, as temperamental as the every-changing breeze. It was scary, intriguing, _something._

"I'm just experimenting," he muttered sullenly, refusing to look directly at her, his cheeks turning pink.

"It's very impressive." Her words fuelled his ego, and he stood a little taller, chest out and head high, that devilish smirk returning, the one that preyed on her confused emotions and caused her face the flush. How did he have such an effect on her? She had only been back a day and she was already a mess of emotions, a puddle of desire and compassion and uncertainty and _fear_ – fear of her very thoughts.

Anakin grinned at her, "really?" and removed a hand from his pocket to run through his hair. Padme suddenly had a need to do that herself, but she swallowed and shuffled on the spot. _No_ , she would not allow him to affect her so. She was Padme Naberrie, a Harvard graduate ( _almost)_ , a woman of principle – she was strong enough to resist Anakin Skywalker. Wasn't she?

"Yes, I mean – it's incredible! You should show this to someone! I – you don't even have a _degree_ , and you're already making _this_ sort of technology!"

He laughed, his shoulders shuddering with the sound of it. Padme couldn't help but smile at him, his laugh was infectious. "He's not finished yet. I don't even know if he will work."

"He?" Padme raised an eyebrow. "Does _he_ have a name?"

"Not yet. For the moment he's just a number: C3P0."

"Well, you should show _him_ to someone. I'm sure you could get a scholarship somewhere."

Anakin shook his head at her. "Why do you care so much?" he smiled.

Good question. Why _did_ she care so much? Padme was a compassionate soul, and had a big heart, especially for those less fortunate than herself, something her mother had ingrained in her when she was a child. It was one of the main reasons she wanted to go into politics. She stood by many concrete values; she wanted to increase the minimum wage, so that people like Shmi Skywalker could afford to live without having to work two jobs, she wanted to increase access to health-care and hospital cover, access to education for all children of all backgrounds. Her ideals may have been too optimistic for most people, but Padme was determined to make a change.

From what she could see, Anakin had the potential to go far in life. He was unnaturally gifted and deserved to fulfil his passions.

"You're my childhood friend, Ani. Of course I care."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Right," he said, rolling the sound between his teeth in a long, stretched out, sarcastic tone, all suggestive and arrogant.

"Are you saying I'm lying?" she accused, suddenly defensive, for even Padme was unable to hide her true emotions from Anakin, even with her skilled political façade she had developed over the years spent at Harvard.

"Nah, I believe you," he grinned darkly, eyes clouded in lust which stirred something base and primal deep inside Padme. She swallowed and pulled away from his intensity. "It's late, Padme," he continued easily, ignoring the heat and tension between them as though it didn't exist. The humour in his expression made her frown. "Shouldn't you be going home? It _is_ the middle of the night, after all."

She slowly pulled her hand out of his and said, "do you want me to go?", trying for suggestive and flirtatious herself, but sounding desperate and pleading. It wasn't fair. He accomplished it so easily.

"No," he shook his head, wisps of hair swinging distractively in front of narrowed, intense, blue eyes, "but you should sleep. You're my childhood friend, Padme. I care about you."

He used her own words against him, as untrue as hers had been. It was amusing, he knew exactly what he was doing; he was far more knowledgeable about how to mess with her than she gave him credit for. If she wasn't so – what was the word? Annoyed, vulnerable, _sexually frustrated –_ she would have praised him, but she all of those things and more, so she kept quiet and tried to ignore him as best as she could manage.

Nodding her head quickly, she bid him goodnight and headed back to her room. Once she was out of his garage, the air was suddenly clearer, thinner, colder. She closed her eyes for just a moment, relishing in the quiet without Anakin Skywalker. His effect on her was stronger than she cared to admit. It frightened her. _Don't be silly,_ she scolded herself. _You've been single for far too long, that's all. It's just a bodily response, nothing more._

Her words were enough to sedate her, for now. It was only once she lay in bed, she realised that her palms were clammy. _The humidity, perhaps._ But the lust churning within her answered the question she didn't exactly want answered. Her whole entire body was alive, pulse rushing through her, loud in her ears, heart thumping against her ribcage. The sensations were strongest lower down, deeper, and when she rubbed her thighs together under the sheets, she felt a strange wet heat coating her skin. Groaning, she rolled onto her side and squeezed her eyes shut, as her body betrayed her, desperately seeking the friction she needed, the relief she craved. Padme knew she was wrong, but she couldn't help it. Her hand was moving underneath her knickers, without her consent, and as she found that bundle of nerves, wild surges of pleasure rose up from her centre, her skin becoming covered with goose-pimples. It felt so good and so bad at the same time.

Breathing heavily, she parted her lips and wet them as her hips rocked uncontrollably into her own hand. She cursed him for making her feel this way, for winding her up so tight that she practically _craved_ her release. He had to have known what he was doing, he must; all those smirks and the tireless flirting and those beautiful, intense eyes of his. Suddenly, she felt her muscles spasm and her whole body shuddered, her hair sticking to her clammy forehead. Before she could stop herself, she half-moaned, half-whispered, " _Ani!"_ into the stillness of the night.

Body exhausted and deliciously spent, she closed her eyes, feeling more dirty and yet more satisfied than she had been in a long, long time.


	4. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Family time! Padme's family situation is a little different from the films, but I wanted to introduce her sister. I hope you enjoy some of her backstory. There's not much Anakin in this... not until the end, but I promise it will be worth it.**_

 _ **Padme feels embarrassed that she basically got herself off to thoughts of Anakin - because she feels as though this is wrong (that little boy image she keeps holding on to). Anakin makes her feel scared and out of control, but also excited and reckless at the same time. This is a concept that will define their relationship over the course of the next few chapters. Please enjoy xx**_

 _ **Also... the song I've decided fits with Anidala perfectly is 'Arms' by Christina Perri - it's just so bittersweet and tender and painful and beautiful. I listen to it repeatedly whilst I'm writing. I also like 'fallingforyou' by The 1975, especially for later on in the story.**_

* * *

She avoided him for the next week. Ashamed of her actions and thoughts, she decided she could no longer trust herself around him. It proved to be quite a difficult task; he was not as easy to avoid as she had planned. Every day he was outside, shirtless, sweating, dangling irresistibly before her while he slaved away at his various mechanical projects, innocently weaving his way into her mind and toying with her emotions. She needed serious help, she decided as she desperately tried to keep her eyes from straying into the yard next door. No man had ever affected her like Anakin; not even her ex-boyfriend Rush Clovis, whom she had dated at Harvard for two years before breaking it off. Sure, Anakin was attractive, but Clovis had been too, with his intelligent green eyes, dark hair and broad, muscular build. It couldn't be looks alone, surely; Padme Naberrie was not as shallow as that.

 _I need to talk to someone,_ she thought to herself. She needed advice on what to do. As though the universe had answered her plea, her older sister Sola arrived that weekend, with her husband and daughters. Sola Naberrie was twelve years older than Padme, and they hadn't seen each other since her marriage eleven years ago. Padme had been thirteen at the time. With Darred, Sola's husband, constantly travelling with work, Sola had never stayed in one place for more than six months, and opportunities for reunions were difficult.

Padme was ecstatic when she saw her older sister walking up the driveway. With a grin, Padme rushed out towards her.

"Sola!"

"Padme!"

They embraced tightly, tears pooling in Padme's eyes as she wrapped her arms around her beloved sister's neck. It had been too long. When they pulled away, Sola's eyes were moist with affection and she stroked Padme's hair gently, smiling down at her.

"You've grown so much," she sighed, stroking her cheek with soft fingers.

"You haven't changed at all, sister." It was true. Sola looked exactly the same as she had when Padme saw her last. Her tall, slender frame made it difficult to believe she had birthed two children, but she was a beautiful as ever. The two Naberrie sisters had always been similar in appearance; same peaches and cream skin, same chestnut curls, same heart shaped face, only their eyes were different – Sola's a pale blue and Padme's a warm brown.

A tall, fair-haired man appeared at their side, his arm curling around his wife's waist and smiling at Padme with kind, hazel eyes. Darred, Sola's husband. He greeted Padme with an outstretched hand and she took it willingly. Little was known about Darred, except that his work made him travel a lot and he was of Swedish descent. When Sola had graduated school, she ran off, wanting to explore the world and all it had to offer – much to her father's disappointment. While in Sweden, she met Darred and they were married two years later. Padme was slightly jealous of her older sister; she longed to travel and see the world.

"Mama!" cried a child's voice, and a small, blonde girl wrapped her arms around Sola's legs, blinking up at Padme with large, blue eyes. "Who's this?"

Smiling, Sola kissed the young girl on her forehead. "This is your Aunt Padme, Pooja."

Pooja stared, wide-eyed, right up at Padme, mouth slightly open. "She looks just like you, mama," she pointed out.

"She is my little sister. Just like you are Ryoo's little sister."

Padme gave her sister a questioning glance, which was received with an encouraging nod, and bent down, eye level with her niece. She smiled, "hello, Pooja. It's a pleasure to meet you," and outstretched her hands, welcoming her into an embrace. Another child, older but similar in appearance was at her side in moments. Padme beamed at her. "You must be Ryoo," she greeted. "I'm your Aunt Padme."

Ryoo was more wary than Pooja had been, and did not embrace her new Aunt, but gave an tentative smile instead and looked up at her mother.

"They're gorgeous, Sola," Padme praised as she stood up, Pooja's hand still clasped firmly in her own and unwilling to let go. Never before had she felt the need to be maternal, but seeing her nieces ignited a sudden protectiveness and compassion that she hadn't felt before. With her little neice's hand in hers, she thought to herself, _someday, I want this… a family – this bond._

"It's all Darred," Sola replied, sneaking a look at her husband and winking. "His Swedish genes are strong."

"How old are they?"

Pooja pulled on her hand. "I'm five!" she declared proudly. "Sissy is eight." Ryoo rolled her eyes at her younger sister, apparently not liking being referred to as 'sissy'.

Padme's mother soon came outside and greeted her eldest daughter and her family. They went back inside, the girls immediately running out into the backyard, and Padme took her sister upstairs, to her old bedroom. Sola gazed around in wonder, reminiscing as she traced her fingers over her bedhead.

"It seems like an age since I've been in this room," she told Padme, a hint of sadness in her voice, her blue eyes slightly downcast. Turning to her little sister, she sighed, "I'm sorry I left when you were so young. I-I should have been there, when they – you were so young, and it was… it was horrible and I j-just…"

Padme took her sister's hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't, Sola," she said. "You followed your dreams, you wanted to live your own life."

Sola shook her head, sitting down on her old, childhood bed. "No, Padme. I was afraid. Mom and dad – they were constantly fighting… and then w-when they got divorced… I couldn't handle it anymore. I had to get out of there…" she trailed off, playing with a loose thread on the quilt, refusing to meet her little sister's gaze. "I should have stayed… for you – you're my little sister, and I left you."

It was true. Sola had up and left while their parents were fighting their own battles in court, leaving nine year old Padme to handle the traumatic situation on her own, without her older sister to guide her, to talk to her, to tell her that everything was alright. Without that emotional support, Padme had been forced to take care of herself. Her mother had been a fragile wreck, had fallen into a depression, and Padme had took over as the runner of the household. That was, until her father forced her to attend boarding school when she was fourteen. But Padme held no resentment towards her sister. Sola was twenty-one, well and truly an adult, and had a life to lead. It was not fair of Padme to begrudge her the life she wanted, particularly when such a life had paved the way for her two beautiful nieces.

"I can take care of myself."

Sola grinned, knowingly, mischievously. "Oh, I've always known you can, little sister."

Over the next few hours, the two sisters reunited, discussing Harvard and married life and Sweden and all things in between, and Padme began to realise just _how much_ she had missed her sister. As a child, Padme had admired her; Sola was much older, and beautiful and strong willed and ready to take on the world and Padme had wanted desperately be like her.

Their mother interrupted them late in the afternoon, announcing that she had organised a 'surprise-welcome-home-party' for Padme, to celebrate her returning home after so long. It _was_ a surprise, and Padme suddenly realised the reason her sister was actually home, for her. She beamed at her mother, thanking her deeply, as Jobal Naberrie explains that Bail Organa and his wife, Breha would be joined them as well. Bail Organa was a work colleague of Jobal's, and had known Padme since she was a little girl. She adored him, and he adored her; Breha was sterile and unable to have children, but he had regarded Padme almost as his own daughter. The thought of seeing him again made her heart leap with happiness.

"Oh," her mother added as she turned to leave. "I've also invited Shmi and Anakin Skywalker as well. You remember them, don't you? Our neighbours?"

Padme's heart froze in her throat, eyes widening, blood turning cold. "Uh – er, I - um…" she stumbled across her words. Of course, her mother didn't know she had already been reunited with Anakin, didn't know that he was the one person she wanted to avoid. Clearing her throat, she pulled herself together and nodded her head. "Yes, I remember."

"You and Anakin were quite close as children, I'm sure you'd like to see him again."

"Of course," Padme responded, fidgeting on the bed beside her sister, who was throwing her suspicious looks that were far too inquisitive for her liking. "Thank you, mom."

Once her mother had left, Sola confronted Padme. "What was _that_ all about?" she demanded, eyebrows cocked.

"N-nothing," Padme squirmed, uncomfortably. She didn't want to talk about this now, not right now, not _ever_ if she was being completely honest, but Sola was observant and persistent, and besides, Padme had _wanted_ to talk to her about Anakin, hadn't she?

"Don't give me that, Padme. I may not have gone to Harvard, but I'm not stupid," Sola frowned and crossed her arms. "You're stuttering like a malfunctioning droid. Who is this Anakin Skywalker?"

"He's just…" a sexy, irritating, impulsive _flirt_ , she almost said, but the words caught in her throat. _Sexy?_ Where had that come from? She couldn't tell Sola _that_ , her sister would never let her live it down, especially not at dinner. "… an old friend. I'm just surprised mom invited him, that's all." The finality of her words hung in the air, and were enough to abate Sola Naberrie, if only for now.

Bail Organa arrived precisely at 6pm, even though a formal time had not been suggested – Bail was just one of those people who lived for punctuality – with Breha on his arm. His dark face lit up when he caught sight of Padme, and rushed to him, embracing him warmly. He kissed her lightly on both cheeks, unable to keep the grin off his face, the tears from his eyes, as he regarded her.

"Padme," his deep, kind, warm voice flowed over her like a comforting hug and Padme was warmed from inside out at the sound of it. "You've grown so beautiful! I hardly recognise you."

Grinning, Padme winked at him. "I would say the same for you, but I'm noticing a few grey hairs, Bail. Breha must be keeping you on your toes."

He laughed a great, booming laugh and shook his head. "And you're still as cheeky as you were when you were a child, Padme Naberrie."

As much as she enjoyed seeing Bail and Breha again, she couldn't help but constantly eye the front door, for any sign of Anakin. She was paranoid; somewhere between longing and dread – it was sort of bittersweet. Her guests endeavoured to engage with her, to question her about her life at Harvard, her prospects, politics, and she responded with vague enthusiasm, not entirely paying attention. Only Sola seemed to notice her frequent glances outside, but she remained silent, a devils smile on her face.

There was a knock on the door about half-an-hour after the Organa's arrived, and Padme was up and opening the door before anyone had even had a chance to move. Wrenching the door open with anticipation, she saw Shmi Skywalker standing on the doorstep, a container in her hands. The woman smiled at Padme kindly, green eyes twinkling.

"Padme! My goodness, I haven't seen you in years!"

"It's good to see you again, Mrs Skywalker," Padme greeted her politely, whilst trying to peak around her for a glimpse of Anakin.

Shmi reached out and handed the container to her. "I made this, for you."

Padme couldn't help but feel appreciative, her hands opening the container and the most decadent smell flooding her nostrils.

"Four blossom bread," Shmi explained softly. "It was Ani's idea."

"You told me it was your favourite." That voice, the one she had been seeking, _waiting_ for. He stepped into the light, eyes sparkling, lips curled into a soft smile, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black jeans. She drank him in, his light-grey t-shirt that clung to his torso and biceps, the scuffed, faded black combat boots on his feet, the way he stood so tall and easy and confident, the hint of insecurity haloing him, softening the edges of his hard, self-assured ego.

"You remembered…" she muttered, soft and surprisingly affectionate. He actually remembered her favourite dessert. That flattered her and she felt her cheeks warm again.

She stepped aside as the Skywalkers entered and introduced themselves, standing dumbstruck against the wall with Shmi's baked present resting in her hands. Her brain was fuzzy; she didn't even noticed Sola come up beside her until she muttered in her ear, "old friend, huh? You forgot to mention he looks like _that._ "


	5. Chapter 4

_**A/N: My! I've been getting through these chapters rather quickly, haven't I? I actually impressed... normally it takes me several months to update, but I'm just so invested in this story that I can't stop writing. It's a debilitating illness (because those university assignments won't write themselves will they?), but I'm tackling it head on, mainly because of all the amazing support this story has gained. It makes me so happy I'm actually blushing and very flattered. Please keep it up, I love encouragement! It keeps me motivated.**_

 ** _I'm not going to lie, I liked writing this chapter. From Sola's not so subtle hints to Padme flying off the handle to Anakin actually feeling guilty, it just felt_ right _to write, you know? I hope you agree. It's about time Padme put Ani in his place, am I right? All that sexual tension, it's enough to make a girl explode! (Honestly though, where is Anakin Skywalker and why is he not in my bed?) I really am trying desperately to make this organic and realistic. I hope I'm doing an alright job at that. Enjoy xx_**

* * *

"You've been avoiding me." It wasn't an accusation, more of a statement of fact, an accurate observation. They were sitting next to each other at the table whilst her mother served up dinner. Padme was highly attuned to the distinct _Anakin_ smell that perforated from him; grease and oil and sweat mixed with freshly washed hair, and soap and mint toothpaste. It was heady and delicious and dangerous and made the hairs on the back of Padme's neck stand up just a little.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she lied, keeping her eyes focused on her mother, on the plate before her, on a petulant fly that perched on the wall in an attempt to sneak its way onto the bread rolls. Anywhere but him.

"You're not very good at lying." She could hear the amusement in his voice. His hand touched hers gently, making her jump and turn to look at him, fire licking up her sensitive skin. "Padme," he began, soft and apprehensive and concerned, "if I've done something to offend you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Anakin was sincere. It melted her resolve a little. As much as he enjoyed teasing her, it was obvious that he didn't want to upset her; or at least, he regretted upsetting her. It became clear that he wanted to remain her friend, or whatever it was they were.

She smiled at him sweetly and said, "you haven't done anything wrong, Ani." The honey-sweetness of her words and the use of his nickname soothed his worries and he grinned back at her, this time free of any flirtation or suggestiveness. It was an innocent smile, warm and tender and somewhat affectionate, and it had a different even on Padme, yet just as powerful all the same.

Dinner was pleasant; her mother had done well and served quite a feast. She continually offered Anakin extra helpings to which he politely declined, and Padme was relieved that he wasn't flirting with her in front of her family, even though his knee would brush against hers under the table, innocently, purposefully, and she would swallow uneasily in an attempt to control her emotions. It was going well, she admitted, but regrettably too soon, as she hadn't anticipated her _sister_.

The entire evening, her sister had been watching the two of them, much to Padme's frustration, with a little snide grin on her face. Although Sola was thirty-three, Padme was beginning to wonder if _she_ was actually the older one, not her sister.

"So, Anakin," Sola queried across the table. He looked up, expectantly, and Padme felt a pit grow in her stomach. "What do you do?"

He paused, swallowed, dangling his fork deftly, gracefully, between two long, calloused fingers, before answering, "I'm an apprentice mechanic."

"Ani wants to be an engineer," Shmi Skywalker added from the end of the table, smiling at her son, pride in her eyes.

"That's a noble goal," Bail Organa nodded. "A respectable career, and well paying too, if I might add."

Anakin remained silent throughout the conversation, picking at his peas idly with his fork. Padme felt sorry for him, he was obviously embarrassed but didn't want to say anything.

"Not too bad with the women, either," Sola added cheekily, winking at her husband, who was, in fact, an engineer himself. "Though, I'm sure that's never been a problem for you."

It was _this_ particular remark, from her older sister, that made Padme groan internally, and she shot Sola a threatening glare from across the table. She wanted to crawl under the table, head in her hands, and wait for all the guests to leave before she resurfaced. Beside her, Anakin didn't seem embarrassed by it at all. He seemed to enjoy it. He was _smirking_.

"No, not really," he agreed through a laugh, completely arrogant and cocky and _oh,_ Padme wanted to slap him. "There's been a few, but I'm single at the moment." _Define relationship, Anakin_ , she felt herself curse under her breath. Upon meeting him again, she had no doubt that he had probably had a string of girlfriends, flings and one-night stands. How could he not? He was undeniably attractive, and his insistent flirting could crumble even the strongest woman's resolve; she gritted her teeth at the thought. But it irritated her. He'd probably slept with hundreds of women and she'd only been with two other man before, her ex-boyfriend, Palo whom she'd met at a boarding school dance, and Rush Clovis. She felt so naïve.

"What a coincidence," Sola murmured, "Padme is single too." It was a simple statement, but it conveyed a deeper message, ringing with suggestive undertones.

She felt her cheeks flush ridiculously hot and swallowed the lump of embarrassment in her throat. Thankfully, Anakin showed enough tact not to glance her way. The room went silent, an uncomfortable silence, and her mother desperately tried to change the topic of conversation. Padme fumed in her seat. Her own _sister_ , how could she betray her so? What was she playing at?

Excusing herself from the table, she stormed out into the backyard, needed to vent alone and get out of that room. Sola followed her and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Padme – "

" – Are you happy, Sola?" Padme interrupted with a hiss, her voice raw with anger. She fixed her fierce gaze on her older sister, slapping her hand away abruptly. The ferociousness of her response made Sola take a cautious step back, but she was a Naberrie too; she didn't back down.

With a guilty smile, Sola tried to comfort her, but Padme was beyond that. She was trembling, with embarrassment and anger and _betrayal_.

"Look – about that… I-I didn't mean. It came out wrong, I'm sorry."

Frowning, Padme crossed her arms. "Sorry for embarrassing me - embarrassing Anakin? Or sorry for making a fool of yourself?"

Sola sighed and rubbed her temple with tough fingers, as she struggled to find an explanation. "I was just trying to speed things along – the two of you… dancing around each other. More chemistry than I've ever seen… It's been a while since you've been in a relationship, I was trying to make you happy."

Padme scoffed. "Happy?" she half-shrieked, a maniacal look in her eye. "Do I look _happy_ right now?"

"Well… no… but."

"I don't _need_ a relationship to be happy, Sola! I'm happy when I'm on my own, I can take care of myself! And I _especially_ don't want a relationship with Anakin Skywalker!" She tried to keep her voice at a hoarse whisper, so that the guests inside wouldn't hear, but she was struggling to keep herself under control.

The last time she had been in a relationship, she had been hurt. Badly. A freshman at Harvard, new and naive and _oh_ so young, and Clovis had been so handsome, and kind and intelligent and Padme had fallen for him completely. She couldn't help it. He had seemed so interested in her and she had fallen under his spell. Padme had been new to the idea of love; her previous relationship had only consisted of shy, nervous kisses and gentle caresses over clothing. So, when she met Clovis, she was eager to explore and he was more than willing to take everything from her. When she found out about his affair (several affairs) it had ripped her apart, burned her pride, bruised her very soul. She had given him her heart, her trust, her dignity, her _virginity_ and he had taken it all in selfishness and malice. It had destroyed her.

Even the subtle _hint_ of forming a relationship, even just a mention of the word, brought back all those feelings Padme had struggled to suppress for the past year. She wasn't ready to do that again, to leave herself open and vulnerable. There were still scars on her soul from Clovis. He had stolen her trust, and it had never returned, never, not even or someone new.

Sola noticed her discomfort and took her by the arm, leading her around the side of the house, even further away. "I thought you were over Clovis." Her voice was softer, full of concern and worry, as she blinked her sad eyes.

Padme sighed, defeated, "I am, I just - I can't trust... don't want to. I'm not ready, Sola. And now you've gone and encouraged Anakin!" he voice was rising again, as she realised the consequences of her sister's comments. "Even when he was a child, he had this ridiculous crush on me, and now you've gone and _encouraged him!"_

Her hands flailed about before resting on her hips. One of her fingers was sort of pointed towards her sister, but not completely, as Padme still didn't want to be rude, even though she was beyond mad. She didn't want any of this. It was all too confusing, too raw, to close to home. _Anakin isn't the only one in touch with his emotions,_ she couldn't help but think as she frowned her sister with blatant accusation.

"You seem to like it," Sola retorted, meeting Padme's stance with a fierce resolve of her own. "He's been staring at you all night, and you blush like a school girl every time."

It wasn't a lie. He _had_ been staring at her all night and she _had_ felt herself blush under his gaze. But that didn't mean she wanted him to continue! Quite the contrary. She wanted him to stop with his strange fixation so that she could remember how to breath properly, control her own body's heating system and function as a normal human being again, unlike this lust-driven bundle of nervousness she was currently succumbing to.

"I do not," she retorted stubbornly.

Sola rolled her eyes, an amused smile on her face. "You're blushing right now."

Padme didn't answer, she simply turned away and focused on something else, ignoring her sister's presence completely. She didn't want to deal with this right now. Incredibly embarrassed and confused about her feelings, she felt vulnerable and angry and frustrated. She needed to clear her head before she went back inside, faced _him_ again. Sensing her discomfort, Sola decided it was wiser to go back inside and let her sister be alone.

Even while alone, her thoughts drifted back to Anakin. He was an anomaly, one she wanted to decipher. It was clear that he was experienced with women; knew exactly what buttons to press, the right words to say. If anything, it was impressive, if not also alarming. Padme prided herself on being a strong-willed woman, yet here she was, reduced to a puddle of overwhelming lust and conflicting emotions of need and desire and guilt and dread. He had managed to weave past her façade and paved his way with little smirks and intense gazes and subtle touches of knees and hands.

But Padme sensed there was something more to him; there had to be? She had never been attracted to the 'bad-boy' type before, for want of a better word. Her previous relationships had been with intellectuals and gentlemen, not flirtatious, arrogant womanizers. What was it about him that drew her closer, like moth to flame, igniting her curiosity?

She could feel his gaze on her, burning into her skin, before she even turned around. He was leaning against the wall, easy, relaxed, arms and legs crossed.

"Are you alright?" he asked her softly.

She smiled at him and nodded, "I'm fine. Sorry about my sister, she's – "

While she searched for an accurate description, Anakin laughed, "I think she's kind of funny."

She looked up at him, surprised. The blue of his eyes caught the light from inside, making them shine brighter than ever, a piercing, chilling blue that sent shivers down to her core. Half of his face was obscured by shadow, but the darkness suited him.

"So you're not upset?"

Anakin shrugged his shoulder. "It's no big deal. I'm used to conversations like that; Ahsoka never stops questioning me about my love life." His lips curled into a smile, and Padme felt a surge of _something_ – jealousy – at the mention of a female's name. _Another one of his girlfriends,_ she presumed.

"You seemed pretty affected by it though," he added. Two long strides was enough for him to be mere inches from her, staring down at her. His hand reached out, as if to stroke her cheek, but stopped before he could, ghosting his fingers over her skin. "You shouldn't be. You know what she was doing… you shouldn't shy away from it."

His face was getting closer to hers, dangerously so, and she could feel his hot breath on her lips, see the fine blonde hairs that lined his top lip, the shadows cast by his long eyelashes.

"You can't deny this, Padme," she heard him say, but she wasn't fully concentrating, because he was staring so intently at her and his hand was on her cheek now, thumb brushing against the bone and she couldn't breathe. He chuckled darkly at her reaction, it obviously pleased him. "This… _attraction_ , this – you feel it. Too. You must…"

He bent lower and she woke up, suddenly, shoving him away with surprising force for someone her height. Heart pounding, blood rushing through her body, chest heaving, she glared at him.

"Anakin!" she cried, taking a step away from him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Her reaction seemed to amuse him. That only made her angrier.

"What did it look like I was doing?" he quipped, a jest, a tease.

Her jaw set. She didn't like this. "You think this is funny, don't you? This is all a game to you, isn't it?" she growled at him, fists clenching. She'd just about had enough of Anakin Skywalker and she was going to let him know just what happened when you toyed with Padme Naberrie. "I'm just your next _conquest_ , is that it?"

He held his hands up in surrender, face contorted in shock, and he took another careful step backwards. _Good,_ Padme smirked. _It's about time he learnt his place._

"N-no, Padme – I…" he spluttered, tripping over his words as he held out his hands, as if to calm her down.

"You think I'm just like all those _other girls_?"

"No!" he protested quickly, head shaking furiously as he tried to defend his… it wasn't honour – his ego, perhaps. "You're nothing like the others." The words were meant to be sweet and reassuring, Padme could tell, but she was in no mood for honeyed tones and false affection. She was angry and insulted.

"Because I said no?" she challenged.

He paused, grappling with himself, and Padme enjoyed watching his struggle. "M-more or less," he admitted shamefully, and she laughed a cruel laugh. Anakin was nothing if not honest, she gave him that much.

"That must be such a shock for you," she drawled sarcastically, unsure of where this sudden emotion came from but fully intent to roll with it. "What girl could _possibly_ refuse the great Anakin Skywalker?"

He swallowed and turned his face away from hers, suddenly looking very young and vulnerable. He picked at his fingernails, head tilted towards the ground, but Padme could see shame glinting in the light of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, with all the earnestness he could muster. "I thought that you wanted – you seemed to…" he broke off, embarrassed.

She had hurt him; that much was clear. Burned his ego. Bruised his pride. Her compassionate side took over and she felt guilty for being mean to him. He had merely misread her. Even Padme couldn't make sense of her own feelings, it was only natural that Anakin had thought she wanted him. She wasn't even certain that she _didn't_.

"Anakin…" she began, taking a step closer to him.

"I'm really sorry, Padme," he repeated, her name falling from his lips like a prayer, hopeful and pleading. His complete sincerity softened her anger, not completely, but enough for her to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Seriously."

"You were my friend when we were kids, Anakin," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. How she wished she could go back to that easier time in her life. "For that, I can forgive you."

His grateful, relieved smile was contagious, lighting up his entire face. "Thank you. It won't happen again." They stood together in silence for a while, content and satisfied that their feelings had been aired, even if not fully resolved. He knew where she stood now.

" _Were_ friends?" he suddenly added, quirking an eyebrow at her cheekily. "Are we not friends now?"

Grinning at his persistence, she shook her head. "We could be. But I don't even know you. You're not the same as you were ten years ago. You've changed... we both have." Nostalgia hit her. She had finally accepted it. Anakin was not a little boy and Padme was not a teenage girl. They were both adults. They had both changed. They had both grown up.

Anakin reached for her hand, asking silently for permission to take it, and she obliged. "Would you like to?" he asked, anxious and insecure. "Know me, I mean."

The promise of it lingered in the air while Padme pondered. If they had been so close when they were little, surely they could be again, right? As long as he didn't try any of… well, _that._ She'd always held a soft spot for Anakin. It couldn't be a bad thing, to try for friendship.

She beamed and gave his hand a small squeeze. "Yes," she said after a while. "I think I might."


	6. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Everyone, meet Obi-wan and Ahsoka! I know there have been a few people wondering when/if I was going to have these characters make an appearance and to that, I say, OF COURSE and RIGHT NOW! I love both Obi-wan and Ahsoka and I couldn't keep them out of a Star Wars story even if I tried!**_

 ** _This is only an introduction to their characters, and Padme and Ahsoka will have a more one-on-one time next chapter where we delve into Ahsoka (and Anakin's - a little) past. She's a little bratty in this story. She craves Anakin's attention and she's a little immature, but she's also got her mature side at the same time. You'll learn to love her, I hope._**

 ** _Also, I'm picturing Ahsoka as Latina. I don't explicitly say so, but yeah, she just feels Latina to me. I hope you enjoy this xx_**

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Padme and Anakin spent more and more time together, drinking in the familiarity of their friendship, yet the completely new experiences that were associated with it as well. It was an easy state to be in, and the two of them relaxed into it with openness. It was baby steps, but it was enough. Slowly, very slowly, she was breaking down the walls that surrounded Anakin, the arrogance that he hid behind. It was a difficult process, and one he wasn't making easy for her, but she was determined all the same.

Her sister left to go back home the following week and the goodbye was teary. Padme felt guilty for fighting with Sola, but their squabble was completely forgotten as they embraced fiercely, sobbing and whispering constant _miss you_ 's and clinging to each other desperately. It had only been a week and she was already leaving. It felt like they had been apart for ages and just when they were reunited, her sister was stripped away, along with her gorgeous nieces whom she had only just become acquainted with.

With Sola gone, and her mother at work, Padme was often alone in the house. And being alone often lead to spending time with Anakin. She had spent the past few days reading through her course material for the upcoming year, or watching Netflix with Anakin in his bedroom, or hers. He was a sucker for Game of Thrones, and they had watched three seasons in the space of two weeks. While Padme was mortified that she had wasted so much of her time, Anakin was thrilled, because he was in love with Danaerys Targaryen and was very much Team Dany. Padme was very interested in the political issues in the show and the constant fight for power, though she didn't tell Anakin that. She didn't want him to know that she actually _enjoyed_ watching a show that was filled with so much violence and sex and _incest_. But now she needed to get out of the house. Enough was enough.

It was a Saturday morning. Padme woke up,showered and changed into a fresh pair of denim shorts and a white tank, converses on her feet, then went next door, apple in hand as a pitiful excuse for breakfast. Having been around to Anakin's often enough, she went in through the back door, firstly checking the garage to find it empty. It wasn't until she was inside that Shmi Skywalker informed her of Anakin's whereabouts.

"He's at the workshop today, Padme. I can take you if you want?"

Padme shook her head, declining politely. If she remembered correctly, Anakin's workplace was only a few blocks away. She could do with a walk. It was a lovely day, besides. She felt silly that she'd forgotten he had a job. Lately, he'd been spending so much time with her, that it was almost a routine to wake up and see him outside her door, waiting for her, and taking her somewhere new. She had eventually allowed him to take her out on his motorbike, something she never wanted to do again. He was such a reckless driver, as though he _enjoyed_ the prospect of almost killing her as he rounded sharp corners, forcing her to clutch his hips and press herself against him so tightly, whilst scrunching up her face, bracing for the impact that never came. But, of course, it was Anakin, and he always had a motive for acting the way he did.

Forty minutes later, she arrived at the workshop. At first glance, it looked fairly unimpressive; a run-down garage, with a spare parts shop off to the side. An old '66 Mustang was the current patient, raised up on two blocks. Underneath the chasee, a man on a rolling board was operating, screwdrivers and spanners and various other tools that Padme didn't recognise strew across the concrete underneath. It wasn't Anakin.

The man pushed himself out from underneath the car at the sound of her footsteps on the concrete, glancing at her strangely.

"Can I help you, miss?" he asked in a British accent as he stood up from his position on the floor. He was an attractive man, in his thirties Padme guessed, with a russet brown beard framing his square jaw – it was neatly trimmed and moulded impressively to his face. Blue-green eyes blinked at her from beneath a thick set of eyebrows, but he was impeccably clean; cleaner than Padme would have expected from someone who had just been underneath a car. There was an air to the man, a sense of formality and propriety that made her smile. If this man was a mechanic, he was possibly the most _un-mechanic_ mechanic Padme had ever seen.

"Yes, my name is Padme," she responded, smiling kindly. "I'm a friend of Anakin's. Is he here?"

At the mention of his name, the man's eyes suddenly widened in understanding and a large grin broke out on his face. His eyes travelled up and down her body a few times, but not in a sexual way, merely curious.

"Ah, so _you're_ Padme," he chuckled, seemingly to himself at some internal joke that Padme was not privy to. She waited patiently for him to continue. "Anakin forgot to mention _that."_

Not understanding, she cocked her head to the side and asked, "mention what?"

Shaking his head and laughing again, the man grinned. "That you are way out his league, my dear."

Padme was about to insist that she and Anakin were just friends, when he appeared from out the back, peeking his head out of a hole in the wall. His face broke out into an enormous grin once he noticed her, but his concentration was on his colleague.

"Are you saying I'm not pretty enough, master?" he jested, light-hearted.

"Well," the man returned, sarcastically, "if pretty is what you're going for, Anakin, you should buy a dress; something blue to match your eyes. You've already got the hair." He turned back to Padme and wiped his oil-stained hands on a cloth that dangled from the pocket of his jeans, before extending it towards her. "It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Padme. I'm Obi-wan Kenobi."

Understanding suddenly flowed through Padme. So this was Obi-wan; Anakin's mentor and father figure. She felt honoured to be in his presence; Anakin spoke of him often and with such respect and reverence that he reserved for no one else. From what she could gather, Obi-wan had helped Anakin through some tough times in his life, though what exactly those times were, she didn't know. It was private information, and if he wanted to lay it on her, then he would do so in his own time. She would not pester him to divulge his past. Not yet.

She took Obi-wan's hand and shook it, feeling a strength she had never felt in her own father's hand. This was a powerful man, she had no doubt, but the way he displayed his power made him feel like a protector, not an intimidator. Padme was suddenly glad for this man's presence in Anakin's life; just from the touch of a hand, she could sense he was a great man.

"Anakin has told me so much about you, I'm honoured to meet you," she replied.

" _All bad things,_ " Anakin's voice drifted towards the front.

Obi-wan grinned slyly as he responded, "So, Padme, do you want to hear the story about that time Ana – " He never got to finish because Anakin leapt out from where he had been working and ran towards Padme, taking her by the arm and steering her away from his mentor so quickly, it might have even set some form of record.

" – I'm sure she doesn't want to hear _that_ story," he interrupted, pulling Padme behind him as he went back to his work station.

Padme giggled and looked back at Obi-wan, who mouthed _'I'll tell you later'_ to her. "What story?" she whispered to Anakin.

He looked at her seriously, voice in a monotone as he replied, "It's better if you don't know." His straight face made her concerned for a few seconds, until he broke out into a charming grin and he was laughing, the skin around his eyes crinkling, and Padme couldn't help but admire how beautiful he was when he laughed.

Anakin's area was a lot messier than Obi-wan's – he had obviously spilt grease over quite a large section of the floor, for it was a sickly, dark green/grey/yellow colour. Any effort to maintain some sort of order amongst his utilities was forsaken; his workbench was a mess, with paper, tools, half-broken nails, empty cans of gasoline, a screwdriver, even a tennis ball and a baseball bat. Padme couldn't even begin to wonder what they were used for.

A silver Volvo was propped up in the centre, its bonnet open and two of its tyres removed. And that was as far as Padme's vehicle knowledge went in terms of identifying parts. There must have been a bewildered look on her face, for Anakin smiled fondly and laughed, "you don't like mechanical things much, do you?"

"It's not that I don't like them," she explained. "I just don't know anything about them. I'm afraid I'd be one of those pathetic girls who has to wait by the side of the road to help me if my car ever broke down."

Anakin merely grinned, cheekily. "I'm sure you wouldn't be waiting long." _Because you're so pretty,_ the unspoken words hung in the air, heating it and making Padme blush. She cursed herself for feeling this way; she had told Anakin to back off, and it seemed she couldn't.

He seemed to sense that he'd overstepped the line, and ran a hand awkwardly through his dark blond hair, gently pulling thick locks out of their confinement at the nape of his neck. They framed his face to his chin in such a striking way, Padme wished that he wore his hair out more often. Obi-wan was right; he did have pretty hair.

"Well, I – er – I'm pretty busy at the moment," he told her. "You don't have to hang around here. It'll be boring."

Though she knew he was right, she shook her head, reassuring him of her complete content with staying there with him. Shrugging, he got to work, and Padme cleared a space on his workbench for her to sit. She watched him, unashamed even though she should be. She had forced the line between them; they were friends, that was all, and she was glad she made that decision, but _god_ , did his ass look good in his jeans. She was perfectly entitled to acknowledge that, and perfectly entitled to continue such a thorough appraisal without being judged.

"Skyguy!" A young girl suddenly appeared from somewhere – Padme wasn't sure where from because she was still ogling Anakin's perfect backside – and leapt deftly onto the boot of the Volvo, one leg dangling off the side, swinging lazily, the other proper up under her chin. She blinked expectedly at Anakin with large, round blue eyes and tapped her fingers noisily, trying to gain his attention. She hadn't even noticed Padme standing there. "You promised you'd take me out for food!" Her voice was whiny and petulant.

Anakin didn't even look up at her while he worked on the engine. "Not now, Snips," he groaned through a screwdriver between his teeth. "M'busy."

The girl scowled at his bent head, poking her small tongue out at him, before she even noticed Padme. Those round eyes scrutinised her with intimidation and Padme gave the girl a small smile in return.

"Hello," she began, before the girl interrupted her.

"You're _her,_ aren't you?" The girl pointed a finger at Padme, almost accusingly, but also as though she was some sort of rare specimen at a museum. Although it was a question, the way she stared at Padme was as though she already knew the answer.

Padme looked back at Anakin, whose head was still buried under the bonnet, and then back at the girl, not entirely sure what she was asking her.

"I'm Padme," she said kindly. "It's nice to meet you."

The girl slid down off from her perch and offered out her hand. "I'm Ahsoka Tano. Nice to meet you."

That name. Anakin had mentioned it before. In her uncontrolled emotional state, Padme had taken it to mean a former girlfriend of his. Now, looking at the young, barefoot girl in front of her, she realised how silly she had been. Ahsoka couldn't be older than fourteen, her dark hair in two pigtails and a blue bandana wrapped securely around her forehead, resting just above her thick, black eyes.

Padme took her hand; it was dirty and calloused much the same as Anakin's and larger than Padme's even though she was very young. There was a familiar smile on her face, friendly but also sly and devious which made Padme laugh. She remembered that exact expression on Anakin's face when they were children.

"You're different to what I pictured," Ahsoka continued, completely and blatantly honest. "Like, _prettier_. Much prettier than the last one, anyway."

Padme swallowed, unsure of what to say. "T-thank you?" she managed to respond, flushing deeply as a strange emotion filled her; it was almost guilty satisfaction.

" _Snips_..." Anakin warned, still not looking up.

Ahsoka ignored him and readjusted the strap on her short, faded overalls, before continuing on. "It's a _compliment_ , Skyguy," she rolled her enormous eyes. "Don't worry, I won't bite." The sarcastic comment was directed at both parties, and he finally lifted his head up to frown at her. "Are you going to buy me food now?" she pouted, simpering, very over the top, and Padme chuckled at Anakin's irritated expression. He looked so gorgeous when he was annoyed, lips pursing, eyes narrowed, strong jaw set.

"I told you, I'm busy," he snapped, but not too harshly. There was something different about his demeanour with Ahsoka. A sort of fierce protection, playful but condescending. Padme could tell that he cared an awful lot about this strange girl.

Before Ahsoka got the opportunity to retort back, Padme put a hand on Anakin's shoulder and smiled sweetly. "I'll take her."

Anakin met her eyes, shining with gratitude and exhaled deeply. "You don't have to. Ahsoka's just being a brat." His glare returned, and Ahsoka smirked, tossing her pigtails and waggling her eyebrows. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? School? A skate park? A prison cell?" He was grinning though, finding himself incredibly amusing.

Ahsoka walked over to him and flicked his ears sharply, informing him that, "it's Saturday, idiot," and Anakin cringed in at the sudden pain. Before she could run away, he seized her with a shout of "right, you little _monkey_ ," and threw her over the back of his shoulder, holding her by her ankles. She thrashed in his grip, punching his back, screaming at him to put her down as the blood rushed to her head. Padme took all this in with surprise. Anakin looked so… alive. More than she had ever seen. He was playful and adorably childish and so, so gorgeous with a slightly crazed grin, wide on his face, as he tortured his poor, young friend.

" _ANAKIN!"_ Ahsoka cursed, and several other expletives fell from her young mouth which alarmed Padme, until eventually, Anakin restored her to her feet. She glared at him, about to launch another attack, when Obi-wan appeared in the clearing, arms folded and eyebrows raised. "Ahsoka. I told you not to walk around the workshop without shoes on."

Anakin laughed, and Ahsoka made to retort, but stopped herself, frowning stubbornly as she accepted the truth to the older man's words. "Sorry, Obi-wan," she said in defeat.

Padme, feeling sorry for this girl, placed hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you put some shoes on and I'll take you out. I'm more fun than Ani, trust me," she winked at Ahsoka and Anakin made a face. Her offer seemed to brighten up the girl, and she grinned, racing outside and shoving her feet into some worn out joggers. Padme followed her with a smile, looking back at Anakin to see him relieved and grateful, mouthing, _thank you_.


	7. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Yay for Ahsoka/Padme bonding time! Yeah, Ahsoka is a bit rude and bratty, but she's sizing Padme up. She's used to being the only girl in Anakin's life (you know, more than just a fling) and now Padme's come along and she feels threatened and jealous, and basically wants to test if Padme is good enough for Ani. And then... bless her young heart. (I LOVE YOU AHSOKA).**_

 _ **And then... oh Anakin you beautiful, beautiful soul! Padme is such a compassionate individual, and her sense of duty is overwhelming, both with Anakin and Ahsoka. This is why I love her so, so much and why I feel she is a very underrated female heroine in the Star Wars saga. Just because she isn't a Jedi, doesn't mean she isn't a hero in her own right, you feel?**_

 _ **Enjoy xx**_

* * *

" _Ani_ , huh?" Ahsoka smirked. She had caught onto Padme's nickname for Anakin and, because she was fourteen year old girl with a perchance for making fun of him, was now throwing it about carelessly, simply for the thrill.

"I've been calling him that for years," Padme explained with a smile.

"So, you're sleeping together?" She got straight to the point, there was no beating around the bush with Ahsoka. Padme was horrified by the sudden accusation from a girl so young. It dawned on her that Anakin must have had several sexual partners with Ahsoka around, so it was just seen as normal. It was concerning.

"No." Padme shut down that avenue completely, almost aggressively so. It had been happening more often lately; people mistaking them for being together in that sense. She had grown tired of having to defend and protest – in some ways, it made her look a liar.

Ahsoka looked surprised, "Well, that's new," and scuffed her shoes along the ground.

As curious as she was to find out more about Anakin's history, Padme was just as curious to know more about this girl – she was strange and somehow both childish and mature at the same time. Did she have a home? Why did she hang out with Anakin and Obi-wan at the workshop? All these burning questions were in the front of her mind, but she didn't know how to raise them without frightening her or prying too deeply. Teenage girls were sensitive creatures, prone to having secrets, and Padme was ill-equipped for dealing with them. Adults and young children were no problem, but teenagers? They were a completely different species of _difficult_.

"So, why do you hang around then?" Ahsoka asked, words bitter with venom. _My_ , Padme thought, _she really reminds me of Ani when he was a kid._

"We were close as children," Padme began. "He lived next door to me. We lost… contact."

The young girl frowned. "So, you just abandoned him, is that it?" The sharpness of her tone surprised Padme and she bit her bottom lip. Where had _that_ come from? Ahsoka was obviously very, _very_ protective of Anakin, more so than any friend ought to be. Interest in their relationship grew. How did they know each other?

"My dad forced me to attend boarding school in the mid-west. I had to leave."

Ahsoka wasn't satisfied. "Why are you back now?"

It was an interesting question. Why, after so many years, had she decided to return to her _mother_ instead of her father? She couldn't quite explain it; it was almost an unconscious decision. The reasoning behind it was difficult to pinpoint. So, Padme opted for the simpler, shorter version. "It's summer break. I wanted to come home."

Silence. It was deafening. She suddenly reconsidered her offer to spend time with Ahsoka; the girl seemed fixated on blaming her for… something. What that something was, she had no idea, but she was determined to find out.

"He talks about you a lot," Ahsoka said after a few minutes, still bitter. "Says you're, like, really smart. A politician or something."

Padme couldn't help but laugh. "Hardly a politician. I'm studying political science and communications at Harvard."

That seemed to impress the girl, for her eyes widened and her mouth parted a little. "Wow. You really must be smart."

"Intelligence is subjective."

Padme was under the distinct impression that Ahsoka was trying to size Padme up, intimidate her, test her, to see if she was worthy of being Anakin's friend. It was sort of adorable and Padme couldn't begrudge her that.

A burger joint came into vision less than two blocks up ahead. She didn't even realise she was hungry until she saw it, and automatically, her stomach made itself known. She ordered a mini cheeseburger and small fries, Ahsoka a shake, fries and a burger, and they sat down at a table in silence. Ahsoka was especially excited at the sight of food, and wolfed hers down so quickly, she was done before Padme had even finished her cheeseburger.

"You and Ani seem really close," Padme smiled, beginning the string of questions she wanted answered. "How did you meet?"

It was several minutes before Ahsoka decided. She seemed to be working up towards it, as though it was a big story to tell and she needed to remember all the finer details. Padme waited patiently.

"He's like my brother," she began, an endearing smile on her young face. "But, he's, like, my best friend too." She reached across and pinched a handful of fries off Padme, but she didn't mind. "I had a… well, y'know, I'm a foster child, so I haven't exactly had it easy. Neither's Anakin. That's why we get on so well." The story was said with dry humour, but Padme knew that was an act; deep down, Ahsoka was embarrassed and the only way she knew how to hide her anxiety was through sarcasm and humour. _Like Anakin_ , Padme noticed.

"I'm sorry, Ahsoka," Padme reached out and put her hand over the younger girls, in a show of affection, and Ahsoka stared at the contact strangely, but not repulsively so. Padme wondered if she had ever been around other girls before, other, older girls, or whether she even had a mother. The though made her burst with empathy and compassion. If all she had known in her life were males, no wonder she felt so threatened by Padme's presence. Up until now, Ahsoka had been the only female friend in Anakin's life and Padme had taken that away from her.

"Don't be, Padme. Foster life is better than home life. Trust me." The harshness of her words stunned Padme, and she realised how privileged her own life had been. Yes, her parents were divorced, but she had still seen them, or at least, had seen her father. She wondered how old Ahsoka had been when she was taken from her family and into foster care. But she didn't ask. It was too private a question.

"Anyway, Obi-wan takes care of me now," she continued with a brighter smile. "That's how I met Anakin. They've known each other for, like, years, and he's gotten Anakin out of some pretty bad shit. I mean, he was pretty messed up and, like, I was only ten, but I knew what was up, like, he was on the drug scene and he almost got expelled when – " she suddenly stopped, as if realising that she had said far too much, revealed too much about Anakin. She caught herself, eyes very wide in shock. Padme blinked at her. _Drugs?_ That was some news she wasn't prepared for. She didn't know what to make of it. The shock alone was enough. _Oh, Ani…_

"He's clean now," Ahsoka quickly recovered. "Really, he's a good guy, like, the greatest ever." It seemed she was determined to convince Padme about how good Anakin was, and Padme had to smile at her commitment. Sure, the news had been unexpected, but Anakin was past that now; he'd gotten through it, and that was very impressive in her eyes. She admired that. "And, he really took care of me. Like, Obi-wan did too, but Anakin is, like, the big brother I never had, y'know?"

"He obviously cares a lot about you." Though she was burning with curiosity, wanting to know more about Anakin's past, understand his hardships so that she could share in them, she decided that was enough talk for now. It was something she would have to ask him for herself, not wriggle out of Ahsoka.

Ahsoka nodded with a grin. "He cares a lot about you, too. Like, a lot," she said, a hint of sadness in her tone that Padme recognised as jealousy. "The way he talks about you, like you're some sort of angel, or something."

Padme laughed. Angel. That was the first thing Anakin had asked her when she first met him, ten years ago, as a child. _"Are you an angel?"_ It was a completely absurd thing to say, but she had never forgotten it. The memory made her smile brightly. That had been so long ago – they had both been so young then. So uncomplicated.

"Anakin likes to exaggerate," she told Ahsoka, not willing to admit that she felt suddenly very warm. _The way he talks about you, like you're some sort of angel or something._

It was past midday when they returned back to the workshop. Obi-wan had gone home, leaving Anakin by himself. He beamed when he saw them approaching, his face, arms and hands filthy with grease and sweat and tar. Winking at Padme, he ran straight for Ahsoka, smothering her as she shouted protest, covering her in oil. He then turned towards Padme, opening out his arms with a sly grin, and she very carefully backed away, glaring at him, daring him to test her. Laughing, he tugged on Ahsoka's pigtails and went outside to wash himself.

Ahsoka groaned when he left, muttering, "jerk" under her breath, but seeming pleased all the same. She craved attention, that was easy to see, especially from Anakin, and Padme wondered if it was a result of her childhood. She couldn't blame her though; Anakin was infectiously charming and had a way making people crave his attention – Padme knew that all too well.

He reappeared moments later, hair wet, face clean; he shook his head a few times, making his hair stand up at odd angles. It was rather adorable. Smirking, he crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrows playfully. "So, you survived Hurricane Ahsoka in one piece."

The young girl glared at him and poked her tongue out, lips forming the words _fuck you_. Padme frowned; another thing the girl had picked up from Anakin no doubt. A sense of duty suddenly overwhelmed her, and she felt obligated to befriend this girl, be a much needed female presence in her life. Ahsoka would be going through puberty, and there were things that she couldn't discuss with Anakin – he wouldn't want to know about them anyway. She needed a girl, and older girl, a mentor of sorts, and Padme decided that it was going to be her.

"Fine!" Ahsoka groaned after a few minutes of silence, drawing out the vowels deliberately. "I'll go. I know you want to be _alone_." She smirked as she left, waggling her eyebrows at Anakin, who flipped her off with a sharp glare.

"Sorry about her," he muttered. "She's a little… crazy."

Padme smiled at him. "She reminds me of you, actually."

Anakin wasn't insulted, just curious. He cocked his head to the side and asked, "how so?"

"Just her mannerisms. She… well… she wears her heart on her sleeve." When Anakin frowned at her, she reassured him. "That's not a bad thing. It's just... You. You do that too. And," she added slyly, "she's a little devious."

Anakin snorted. "You don't know the half of it."

They sat in silence for a while. Padme was yearning to ask him about his past, but she didn't know how to bring it up casually. Just how badly had Anakin been involved in drugs? Did he need rehab? What had he almost been expelled for? What else was he hiding from her? She decided to try an indirect approach, hoping to coax a confession out of him accidentally.

"Ahsoka told me how you took her under your wing, how you took care of her."

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, she was pretty young. Only ten and she'd already been to thirteen foster homes. She had a rough life." The compassion in his voice was endearing, but Padme wanted answers.

"She – er – " she began, nervously. "She said you had a pretty rough life, too?"

Anakin's smile fell and he glared at her, fury and anger and hurt shining in his blue eyes and Padme knew she had struck a nerve. His lips were pursed shut and he seemed to be struggling in himself, struggling not to tell her to piss off, she assumed. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment, though Padme noticed that his fists were clenched. She swallowed.

"She had no business telling you that," he muttered darkly. This was a new side to Anakin, a darker, more dangerous side that she hadn't seen before. Another layer. He was a very complicated person, she was beginning to realise. Complicated and troubled. His arrogance was a cover-up, masking the trauma of his past. She wanted to hold his hand, reach out and comfort him, but she decided against it. He might shout at her, or worse, even hit her. _He wouldn't lay a hand on me,_ she assured herself, but there was a small part of her that was slightly afraid. This side of Anakin Skywalker was alarming.

"Anakin…" she began, meek and tentative and careful.

"Don't defend her!" he snapped. "She's a nosy little brat."

"Don't! Don't be mad at her," Padme insisted, pleaded. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have asked, I just wanted to know. I want – I want to help..."

Anakin's eyes flashed furiously, bright and dangerous as lightening. "I don't want your help." He got to his feet in a rush, fists still clenched and began pacing. It concerned Padme deeply. Something awful must have happened to him, for him to react this way. It pained her to see him in such obvious _agony_. But she had to let it go. He didn't want to talk about it. She had to accept that and respect it.

"Alright," she told him, softly, approaching him and touching his arm with reassuring gentleness. He froze at her contact, but didn't pull away. "I'll leave you alone."

She turned and left him there, feeling raw compassion for this beautiful boy and his painful past.


	8. Chapter 7

_**A/N: WARNING: FEELS TRIP APPROACHING. This is going to get dark and angsty and depressing and sad and everything hurts.**_

 _ **I feel as though this is probably not what people were expecting. I can accept that. Actually, I hope I shocked some people.**_

 _ **But first, I feel its my duty to remind you all of some defining character traits.**_

 _ **First Anakin:**_

 _ **1\. He is very easily manipulated. The whole plot of Star Wars is how Anakin was manipulated into joining the Dark Side by Palpatine... who convinced him that it would save Padme's life.**_

 _ **2\. He gets aggressive and violent when he's angry and takes revenge. Episode II Tuskan Raiders anyone?**_

 _ **3\. He can't stand watching innocent people suffer.**_

 ** _Padme:_**

 ** _1\. She has an extremely strong sense of duty._**

 ** _2\. She is incredibly compassionate and empathetic and wants to do the right thing._**

 ** _3\. She always wants to see the good in others. That's why she's convinced that Anakin could never join the Dark Side, because she can see that he still has good in him._**

 ** _Okay, now that I've done that, I feel like you can go ahead and read :) But just, keep in mind these character traits. While my story maybe be AU, my characters are cannon (as much as possible)._**

 ** _Also, if no one picks it up, this is meant to be an 'equivalent' of sorts to the Tuskan Raiders and Anakin's revenge. Just a different scenario._**

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Padme was in the middle of eating breakfast, when she saw the shadow of a figure waiting on her front step. _That's strange,_ she thought. She wasn't expecting anyone, and Anakin never knocked. Taking a bite of her toast, she rose and opened the door, to see Obi-wan standing before her. His presence caught her by surprise, and she almost forgot to swallow.

"Obi-wan?" she greeted him in confusion. "Anakin is the house next door." He'd probably just gotten mixed up.

Smiling, the older man shook his head. "I know that, my dear. I came to see you, actually."

That was even more surprising. "Oh." Padme hardly knew the man. It was just then she realised she was being extremely rude, gawking at him without offering him inside or even properly greeting him. She recovered, smiled, and ushered him inside, wishing she was more dressed more appropriately. It was 9am, and she was still in her pyjamas, a pale blue, silk robe draped over her petite shoulders. Feet bare, hair of mess of chestnut curls, she knew she had certainly looked better.

Obi-wan sat politely at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for Padme calm herself.

"Would you like some tea, or coffee, or something?" she asked, a little rushed.

The man smiled at her kindly. "Tea would be lovely, thank you."

Nodding, Padme set putting the kettle on, her movements rushed and frantic, until Obi-wan told her, in a soothing voice, that she could relax. She breathed deeply and smiled, he was such a calming presence. It dawned on her why Anakin relied on him so – he was so highly-strung and emotional and his mentor was a breath of fresh air, soothing and calm and collected. It was a good match.

She excused herself to change into something more appropriate, contemplating what could possible bring Obi-wan to see her. Had something happened to Anakin, or Ahsoka? Was he here to warn her to stay away from Anakin? She wasn't sure. But it bothered her.

Once dressed, she returned downstairs, apologising profusely for making him wait.

"Don't apologise, Padme," he told her as she sat beside him. He looked pensive as he sat at the kitchen counter, back abnormally straight, hands resting in relaxed fists upon his bent knees. He was strange man. "I was the one interrupting your morning."

Padme took a sip from her morning coffee, even though was now lukewarm, and faced him. "So, what did you want to see me about, Obi-wan?" she asked politely.

Obi-wan shifted in his seat and stroked his beard in one short, swift movement, before facing her. "I wanted to talk to you about Anakin."

 _Knew it_. She sensed, from the tone of his voice, that Obi-wan wasn't here with good news. Two things had happened… either Anakin was in trouble, or Obi-wan was going to ask Padme to stop being friends with him. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"Oh, no it's nothing like that," Obi-wan assured her quickly, pacifying her worries. "I just think you're be the best person to help me."

Padme frowned in confusion. "Help with what?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before continuing. "I assume Anakin's told you about his goal to become a mechanical engineer?" She nodded. "He wants to design aircraft… military aircraft. But, even though I've encouraged him to send in an application or some samples of his work, he says that – "

" – he wouldn't be able to afford it anyway, so there's no point," Padme finished with a sigh. Anakin had already expressed his reluctance, as tuition was far too expensive, and even when she had suggested a scholarship, he had shut her down. Padme sensed there was more to the story than he had insinuated, but she didn't want to push him. It would only result in an outburst like before.

"Yes," Obi-wan agreed sadly. "It is a shame, really, because he is actually rather brilliant. One of my oldest friends was headmaster at his school, and it was _he_ who introduced me to Anakin. A brilliant boy," Obi-wan said fondly. "He has such an uncanny ability with complex mathematics and engineering, even when he was a child. He has so much potential… I don't want it to go to waste. Talent like that…" He shook his head in despair.

Padme smiled at how much Obi-wan cared for Anakin. It was rather touching. _What a wonderful, kind man._ The bond between Obi-wan and Anakin was something she found very interesting. It was different from his relationship with Ahsoka, but both were equally as important to him, she could tell. A small part of her wondered where _she_ fit into the picture; what part of Anakin's life she took up.

"How can I help?" she asked.

Obi-wan glanced at her kindly, his eyes as calming as the lake near her father's house, so blue and cool and welcoming. They were soothing eyes. "I think if, perhaps, _you_ convinced him to give it a shot, he would."

Padme laughed. "I doubt he will listen to me, if he hasn't listened to you. Besides, I already tried. He shut it down immediately."

A sly, secretive smile crept onto the older man's face. "My dear, I don't think you quite understand the power you hold." When she tilted her head in confusion, he continued, "that boy cares an awful lot about what you think of him."

That was surprising. Padme was under the impression that he didn't care what anyone thought of him, that Anakin did what Anakin wanted because he was, well, _Anakin_. When she voiced her opinion, Obi-wan reached out and placed his hand on hers. "Padme, I think Anakin would do pretty much anything if you asked it of him."

The strange fuzzy feeling returned in the pit of her stomach. The honesty, the truth behind that one simple statement… Padme couldn't deny it. Anakin would do anything she asked, simply because it was _her_ who asked it. Having that kind of power over someone was something she was unfamiliar with, and she didn't know what to do with it. It terrified her, if she was honest. She didn't ask for it, she didn't exactly want it, but it was there, in her hands, and now Obi-wan was asking her to wield that power, to, essentially, _manipulate_ Anakin into doing something he had expressed doubts about. Was that the right thing to do? Even if it was only to help him achieve his potential? Padme wasn't sure.

But Obi-wan was counting on her. He cared very much about his young apprentice and obviously wanted what was best for him. She couldn't let him down, could she?

Nodding her head slowly, Padme said, "I'll do my best, Obi-wan. I care about Anakin too."

He smiled in gratitude. "That is exactly why I'm here, my dear."

Obi-wan left Padme to ponder how she was going to tackle the situation. Anakin had been angry with her the last time they spoke, when she had pushed him too far. Would it be the same this time? Would he hear her out, or immediately shut her down before she even had a chance to explain herself? Was he still _angry_ with her?

She went over to the workshop late in the afternoon, needed the entire morning to formulate a plan of attack. Anakin could be… unpredictable. She didn't want to say the wrong thing, or overstep the boundaries. But, she was determined.

When she found him, he immediately ran to her and put his hands on her shoulders, staring deeply into her eyes with an intensity, a sadness… that was unexpected. "Padme, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he told her. "I shouldn't have gotten mad at you, but, well, I'm a fucking idiot sometimes, and I did and – " He was rambling and it was adorable and Padme felt very touched by his concern for offending her.

She shook her head, smiling at him. "You don't have to apologise, Ani," she assured him. "I shouldn't have interfered. _I'm_ the one who should be sorry."

The grin he gave her lit up his entire face; it was intoxicating and infectious and the sweetest thing Padme had seen. He continued to catch her off guard with how wholeheartedly he _felt_. It was all consuming. There was no middle ground with Anakin, everything was either all or nothing. It was an incredibly unique quality to have, and she admired how passionate he was about everything, about life.

"So, did you come here just to tell me that, or is there something else?"

 _He can read me that well?_ Padme thought, astonished. "Uh, well, yes, there is something I wanted to talk to you about. Do you want to, maybe, sit down, or?" She was suddenly very nervous. Perhaps it was the fact that he had immediately sensed her ulterior motive, or because she was worried about upsetting him, but either way, Padme was nervous.

Anakin obliged, and they went out into the backroom. His workbench was somewhat tidier than it had been the last time she was there, and he gestured for her to sit on it, next to him. He blinked at her, expectantly, waiting for her to speak and she willed herself to look away from his beautiful, distracting eyes and _get on with it._

"So, uh, Obi-wan came to see me today," she began, hoping to soften him up before she launched her attack.

"What for?" he asked, obviously confused.

Padme swallowed and bravely soldiered on. "He, well, he told me about your ambition to design military aircraft." Anakin's jaw locked a little, clearly sensing where the conversation was headed. "And, he, well – he cares a lot about you, Ani and… he enlisted my – er – help _._ He thinks you should apply to some universities."

"I told you before, Padme," he frowned at her, "there's no point."

"But there _is_ , Ani," she insisted, reaching out to touch his hand. It was a low blow, but it seemed to work, for now. "I've seen what you're capable of. You could get a scholarship! Universities would be lining up to take you in." She was going a little overboard, but it fuelled his ego. Obi-wan was right; Anakin _did_ care about her opinion of him. A lot. And he wasn't afraid to show it either. _I think Anakin would do pretty much anything, if you asked it of him._

Just when she thought she had broken through, his face fell. "It doesn't matter." Something was amiss, something he wasn't telling her. But Padme wasn't going to back down this time. She was going to find out.

"Of course it matters. A scholarship would mean you wouldn't have to pay tuition. Think about it, Ani! You could at least try."

He put his head in his hands, fingers rubbing at his temples, as though he was arguing inside himself. "You – you don't understand. I-it's not that simple."

Padme sighed. It was getting ridiculous. What could possibly have happened that he was refusing to tell her? "Then help me understand," she coaxed, voice soft and gentle. "Help me understand, Ani."

She wasn't prepared for the complete _agony_ in his eyes when he faced her. He looked so pained, that it hurt. _Oh, Anakin…_

"You'll find out soon enough, anyway," he muttered with a defeated sigh, more to convince himself than her. "But, Padme, please, I – " he took her hand in both of his, looking vulnerable and desperate and so painfully beautiful. "I-I've changed. I'm not that person, not anymore, I don't do… you have to promise me. You have to promise – " _that you won't think of me any differently_ , the unspoken words were hidden as his voice broke, thick with emotion.

"I promise, Ani," she told him with a small, reassuring smile. "You can tell me."

Nodding, swallowing hard, he looked down at his knees. "I had a pretty messed up life. Not always, not when I was a kid, not when you knew me. Back then I was smart – the smartest kid in class. I always knew what I wanted to do. But, in junior year I – " he paused, gathered himself, then continued, "I got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Like, not just any wrong crowd, the worst, the criminal kind." He was refusing to look at her, but Padme made sure to keep looking at him, to keep reassuring him that she wasn't going to judge him. It was important. He was finally opening up to her and she wasn't going to mess it up.

"One of them was a dealer," he explained. "Another…. already been to juvy for possession… only six months, but still. _Criminals._ " His hands were trembling, and she felt a surge of affection for him. This had to be extremely hard for him to do. She was proud of him. "They were seniors, you see, and, y'know, being a junior, that was considered an honour or something. They got me into their lifestyle, drugs and sex and…" he stopped, but Padme could sense that he had been involved in criminal activities as well.

"I was constantly high, skipping school, failing classes. It was a pretty low point. Obi-wan tried to get me back on track by becoming his apprentice at the workshop, but I was too far gone by then. Anyway, they graduated and I was in senior year. One of them was pretty pissed off because one of his teachers had failed him in," Anakin's brow furrowed as he tried to remember, "I dunno, English I think, and that meant he'd failed high-school and couldn't get his certificate or something. One night, we were just hanging out, smoking and, y'know, when he gets a baseball bat and says, 'let's go fuck him up.' I was high and didn't really know what he meant, like, we were gonna smash his car in or something, as payback. But, it wasn't his car."

It was then that Padme noticed Anakin's whole body was now trembling. She sensed what he was about to tell her was worse than anything he had said so far, and it had been quite confronting and alarming up until this point. Padme had known that Anakin had a dark past, but she wasn't prepared for just how dark it was, and it she was being honest, she wasn't prepared for it to get worse. But she had to remain supportive, for Anakin's sake at least. It was troubling him to reveal this to her, she knew, and he needed all the encouragement she could give him. She cared an awful lot about this boy. She supposed she always had.

"He broke in and started beating this poor man to a pulp with his baseball bat. In front of his whole family, his wife, his little girl…" Anakin choked on his words, fists clenching tight against his knees, knuckles going white. "She was probably only Ahsoka's age, and she was watching her dad get beaten up by some lowlife and I-I couldn't take it. I couldn't stand there and watch. I-I had t-to do s-something. So I – " A single tear slid down his cheek and it was the most heartbreaking thing Padme had ever seen.

She knew what he was going to say before he even said it. She just knew Anakin.

"I took his bat, and I… I gave him a taste of his own medicine," his voice was cold and dark and bitter, full of anger and hatred. "And every time I swung, I looked at that little girl and I saw Ahsoka and I just kept going, because he deserved it. The scum deserved everything I gave him, for hurting that little girl."

There was a dangerous look in his eyes that frightened Padme. She sat there, in complete shock, trying to absorb the information that he had just handed to her. It was intense and overwhelming and she was far, far from prepared. It was darker and deeper and more shocking than she had expected. What could she say to that? How could she even respond? The weight of his story was agony on her soul and she felt tears well in her eyes and spill down her cheeks in a flurry, blurring her vision. She should have been terrified, or disgusted, but all she felt was total _compassion_. It was so raw and strong. It was so wrong.

Anakin was looking at her then, concerned and shocked and regretful. "Padme, please, say something!" he begged, pleaded, tears falling from his own eyes. "Yell at me! Tell me you h-hate me, just – please… d-don't cry – why are you crying?"

She sniffed, loudly, "Oh Anakin…" she said, voice trembling with emotion; pity and fear and empathy and sadness. "T-that's so s-sad… I-I – " she choked, shuddered, "I-I couldn't h-hate you… not now. Not ever, I-I… _Oh, Ani!_ " She pulled him into her arms, wrapped him up tightly in her embrace, trying to express how much his past had affected her, how much she cared for him. How she could never leave him, not now. He fell apart in her arms, emotions getting the better of him, and she held him and stroked his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder.

When they finally broke away, eyes red and puffy and cheeks wet from tears, Padme almost laughed at how pathetic they both were, but she was still too emotional, so she simply gave Anakin a watery smile. He didn't return it. He looked sick.

"Y-you're still here."

That hurt. He'd been expecting her to abandon him. She needed to convince him that she wasn't going to leave, that she was there for him. "Of course," she whispered. "I'm not going anywhere." Some of the light returned to his eyes at her words and her heart swelled at the sight, but she could tell that he was holding onto a lot of that shame and guilt. It was eating him up inside, and it clearly affected him deeply, even after all this time.

"You should – I don't deserve. I'm… I'm not who you thought I was, Padme. I… I – " He couldn't get the words out, stumbling over them as his voice broke like a dagger to Padme's bleeding heart. _Oh_ , how she wanted to help him. It was an awful thing to watch him torment himself.

"Anakin… You were trying… _avenging_ that poor man and that little girl. That's – that's nothing to be ashamed of." Even if he had acted out in a very aggressive, violent way, he had meant well. Anakin was a good person; Padme believed that, knew that, he just had difficulty controlling his emotions.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. Regardless of anything else, Padme was proud of him for opening up to her.

"I got _arrested,_ Padme," he said in a strangled whisper. "I broke his ribs. If the cops hadn't shown up…" He trembled. She took his hand, offering him all the comfort he needed. "They sent me to rehab… I was under the influence, and still at school, so I only had to pay a fine and some community service. But I still did it… I've still got a criminal record."

Padme suddenly understood now why he was so reluctant to apply for college. They would find out about his criminal record and the chances of him getting accepted were very slim, indeed. It was almost heart-breaking; one bad decision had caused such a huge rift in Anakin's life, ruining his goals and aspirations. And there wasn't anything Padme could do about it. That was what hurt the most. Padme had always prided herself on her ability to help others, but she couldn't help Anakin. And now he had to live with the consequences, something that had obviously tormented him up until this point.

They spent a while in complete silence, neither one speaking. Anakin refused to look at her, his breathing rough, his face a mask of shame. Padme didn't know what to do. What should she do? What could she possibly say? His past had shocked her, she knew that, and yet at the same time, her fondness for him grew. It was difficult to explain, and she couldn't fully understand it, but her tender heart reached out for him. He had opened up to her. He had spilled his deepest regrets to her; it was a massive step forward in their friendship. Where to from there?

It was clear he didn't want to talk anymore and she didn't press him. She was still reeling from his revelation. So, she simply took his hand. It was the best she could do for him.

The sun began to set; red-gold light spilling in through the open door. Anakin's pulse had calmed down somewhat, which Padme was grateful for, but he still kept his gaze fixed to the floor, barely acknowledging her presence.

"Anakin."

He looked up, shame swimming in his beautiful blue eyes, and she just wanted to hold him in her arms again and stoke his hair and comfort him until he returned to his normal self. _Maybe, he doesn't have a normal self; a natural state,_ she thought to herself as she studied him. _He's just layers and layers of complexity._

"This doesn't change anything, you know. I still…"

He removed his hand from her grip. "It should."

"Ani," she reached for him again, but he stood up.

"Don't, Padme," he muttered. "Don't look at me like that. It's." He sighed. "Too much."

At this, she frowned. She was sick of this self-pity act of his. Yes, he had done something rather shocking. Yes, he had paid the price for his actions. But it was over now. He needed to accept what he had done. "Would you rather me look at you in hatred, or disgust?" she asked, suddenly annoyed.

"No," his voice was very soft, completely honest. "But I would understand more if you did."

She stood up and crossed her arms, tossing her hair back from her face. "Stop it Anakin," she said firmly, and he was completely shocked by her fierce expression, his eyes going wide at her defiance. "You need to listen to me. I don't care what you've done! I _know_ you. You're a good person, and you've redeemed yourself and that's all that matters to me. If your goal was to push me further away, then I'm afraid you've failed. Because I'm not going anywhere. And you'll just have to accept it."

She stood strong, keeping her gaze fixed on him, eyebrows narrowed, jaw locked. His entire expression softened into something so purely affection, as though he was looking at something utterly beloved. Suddenly, he was crossing the room and seized her up in his arms, crushing her to him in a tight embrace, his nose burrowing into her hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stroking the hair at the nape, simply letting him hold her. It felt good to be in his arms; despite everything he had told her, everything he had revealed about his nature, she felt safe in his arms.

"You really are an angel," he whispered, voice muffled by her curls, and the sentiment ran deep into her core. When they pulled away, he smiled fondly at her, his eyes full of light again, the colour of an incredibly clear day. She was glad to see him smiling again. It warmed her heart.

"Come on, I'll take you home."

Padme couldn't sleep that night, thoughts drifting constantly back to Anakin. He was… what? He was certainly complicated. And he conjured up all these confusing feelings inside her and she was worried… worried about what they meant, of what they could become.

He was dangerous, a part of her was telling her. He was aggressive and emotional and irrational and every logical part of Padme's brain was telling her to stay away, to end their friendship while she still could. But he was also incredibly compassionate and sweet and just so _alive_ that she found him immensely fascinating. Her inner turmoil haunted her for the rest of the night.

 _Oh, Padme, what have you gotten yourself into._


	9. Chapter 8

_**A/N: I apologise for the last chapter being so dark. Thank you for all the support though. If you haven't guessed... I love writing angst. And Anakin is possibly my favourite character to write out of the dozens of characters I adore in the dozen of fandoms I worship. He's just so... complicated and I love him. Writing him through Padme's eyes gives it a sweet touch I think.**_

 _ **And yes, I know nothing about the law or the ins and outs of university politics and being excepted and what not (especially in America because I'm an Aussie gal), but I suppose that's why this is called fiction, because it's not true to life. Not exactly, anyway.**_

 _ **I don't think Padme would turn away from Anakin after he revealed all those horrible things to her. In SW, when he told her he had slaughtered an entire population, include women and children, she forgave him and stood by him and supported him. She's just that sort of person. She always wants to see the good in people.**_

 _ **This chapter is full of phone conversations, because Padme needs to talk to people and those people don't live near her. So, I'm sorry about that, but it's integral to the story. And who doesn't love Sola, am I right? Thank you to all my faithful readers and reviewers. Please stick with this story. I know it's slow, but it's building up to something great, I assure you. Baby steps, my lovelies. Baby steps.**_

 _ **Enjoy xx**_

* * *

Padme couldn't stop thinking about Anakin. They had left each other rather abruptly, and she hadn't heard from him since. It worried her. Was he alright? Was she alright? What was going to happen now? Never had Padme felt so conflicted in her entire life. The knowledge of Anakin's dark past was more than she could cope with. It haunted her dreams; horrifying images of Anakin taking out his rage on an unconscious individual; darkness shrouding him. It was this dangerous side of him that had Padme troubled. She knew he was emotional; she had known that all along. But this was different. There was a darkness inside him, a darkness he had clearly tried to suppress without luck, and she was concerned that it would slowly consume him. Padme couldn't let that happen. He was a good person. She needed to _heal_ him. It was her duty.

No matter how much she wanted to see Anakin, she couldn't build up the courage. It ached. She needed someone to talk to. Someone wiser. She needed her older sister.

Resolved to tackle this emotional whirlwind than Anakin had stirred inside her, she decided to ring her sister. Sola picked up the phone after three rings, muttering a distracted greeting before shouting at Ryoo to stop hitting her sister. Padme waited patiently.

 _"Sorry. Kids, y'know,"_ Sola groaned on the other line.

Padme laughed. "Uh, no, not really." She could practically _see_ Sola rolling her eyes.

" _What did you call for, Padme?"_

"What?" Padme asked, innocently. "I can't just call my beloved older sister because I miss her?"

Sola snorted. _"Well, some could, but you don't. You want something, dear sister. Spit it out."_

She knew her too well, Padme smiled. She had never been able to hide anything from her sister, face to face or even over the phone. Swallowing, she struggled to figure out how she would address her current situation. Just as she was mulling over the words, fresh on the tip of her tongue, Sola interrupted her thoughts.

 _"It's about that Anakin Skywalker, isn't it?"_ Padme blinked, shocked. How had she known? When she confessed as much, Sola simply replied, _"You're predictable. So, what is it? You're not pregnant or anything are you?"_

"What? No! That – that's ridiculous! We've never - " She felt her cheeks redden and she suddenly grew very hot. Not that she'd ever admit it to anyone, _least_ of all Sola, she had fantasised at least once about Anakin in… well, that way. She felt guilty and dirty about it, but she was a woman after all and she had desires that needed fulfilling.

 _"Good. That's good. I think dad would murder him, and probably you too, if you were. So, what's the problem, then?"_

With a reluctant sigh, she told Sola everything; from Anakin's revelation to her confused feelings. Sola listened patiently, never interrupting, absorbing the information with careful deliberation. Once she was finished, Sola whistled. _"Well, shit."_

Smiling at her reaction, Padme nodded her head. "Yeah."

 _"Do you want my honest opinion?"_

"I wouldn't have called you if I wanted lies."

 _"I think you need to let it go. That boy… he's got a lot of emotional baggage, and, honestly Padme, I don't think you can handle that right now."_

Padme scowled, suddenly defensive. "What do you mean I can't handle it?"

 _"Don't get shitty,"_ Sola consoled her, remaining firm. _"You told me yourself, you still aren't fully healed from that bastard Clovis. The last thing you need is to get involved with someone so... complex. It'll only break you._ "

She was right. Of course she was. Sola had always been so wise and thoughtful. It was why Padme had turned to her. She needed advice. Rush had hurt her badly, and Anakin was so, _damaged_ … she couldn't handle that. Not until she was completely healed.

"Are you saying I shouldn't be friends with him?" She didn't know if she could do that. She was emotionally invested now; he had opened up to her and she was now a part of it. She had promised Anakin that she wasn't going anywhere. And Padme Naberrie was a woman of her word.

 _"I'm saying that you need to be careful,_ " Sola reasoned. _"You have a habit of reaching out to damaged people. I understand that Anakin is a challenge for you, a charity case of sorts, and you want to help him, but you need to be careful. Your heart's in the right place, but there are something things even you can't fix._ "

Padme pondered her words. Charity case? Is that what she thought of Anakin? Is that why she wanted to help him? Because she pitied him? Sure, it wasn't the main reason, but she _did_ pity him. Quite a lot.

"Thank you, Sola," she sighed, grateful for her counsel.

 _"That's what I'm here for. Take care, sister._ "

While her conversation with her sister had eased some of her worries, she was still terribly conflicted. Needing to clear her mind, she changed into some light-weight running shorts and a tank, slipping her feet into her sneakers. It was a grave situation indeed, if Padme was exercising, for she never went jogging. Ever. She tied her hair back from her face and went outside. The air was sticky and humid, but it was fairly quiet in the neighbourhood, something she was grateful for.

The burning in her legs after a few minutes made her laugh at how unfit she was. It had only been a kilometre, and her breathing had become extremely laboured, but she pressed on. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her upper lip, dripping down her neck as she continued to run. She needed to think.

Perhaps, if she was able to help Anakin, find a way to assist him in going to university, her confused feelings would go away? But how could she help him? He had a criminal record, after all, and that didn't exactly put him in a good light, not even _with_ his exceptional talent. Surely, though, people with criminal records could study? Anakin had only been sixteen; he wasn't even an adult. They had to make exceptions right? Padme sighed; Sola was right. She had a habit of seeing the best in everyone, but that was a unique quality. Many people would judge Anakin – many people probably already had, which was why he kept it tightly bound up inside him, letting the guilt and shame eat away at him.

But how could she help him? Yes, she went to Harvard, but she knew not the first thing about mechanical engineering. She wouldn't know where to start. If only she knew someone who understood the politics of college life.

 _Dad._

Her father. Of course, that was the simplest answer. Her father was a Harvard professor; he was sure to have contacts at other colleges. Perhaps, if she contacted him, she could ask for some advice. About Anakin. _Yes,_ she grinned, proud of herself for finding a reasonable solution. _Maybe I should go running more often._

"Padme?"

She turned to see Ahsoka running towards her, a young friend by her side. "Ahsoka, it's nice to see you again," she smiled at the young girl.

"I didn't know you were an athlete," she quipped with an easy smirk, eying her up and down.

Padme laughed. "Oh, believe me, I'm far from it. I just needed to clear my head, I suppose." It was then she noticed the slightly guilty look on Ahsoka's face. "What are you doing?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

The girl and her friend, a young Muslim girl, exchanged mischievous glances. "Uh, nothing," Ahsoka replied quickly, though her eyes continually flashed to the left. Padme followed her stolen glances to see them directed at a young boy, who was reading on a park bench. She grinned.

"Does nothing involve spying on a boy?"

Ahsoka blushed. "We weren't _spying_ , were we Barriss?" she nudged her friend, who failed miserably to play along.

"Definitely not spying. The opposite of spying, actually."

Padme shook her head at them, unable to keep the smile on her face. "So, who is he? You'd better make sure Anakin doesn't find out. I don't think he'd take it very well that you have a boyfriend."

Blanching, blue eyes rounder than normal, Ahsoka shook her head. "Lux is _not_ my boyfriend!" she protested aggressively. "And if you tell him - " she scowled at Padme, who laughed at her reaction.

"Alright, alright, he's not your boyfriend. I won't say anything to Ani, I promise."

Relieved, Ahsoka relaxed her defensive posture, clearly not comfortable talking about love interests with Padme. "Are you going to see _Ani_?" she asked, a devils smirk on her face as she used her nickname for him.

"No, I'm not," she smiled down at her.

"Oh," Ahsoka grumbled, looking disappointed. She was certainly a difficult girl to understand. There was something in her tone that concerned her a little though.

"Why, is he alright?"

"Yeah, he's fine," she assured her. "I just thought, seeing as you spend _so_ much time with him…" Barriss giggled beside her.

Padme rolled her eyes. She supposed she would just have to get used to this teasing from Ahsoka if she was going to remain friends with Anakin. _She's like his little sister._

She wished the two young teenagers well on their spying escapades and then continued to run home, feeling lighter than when she started. _Running therapy seems to work_. Once she was home, she stripped out of her sweaty clothes and showered, letting the hot water soothe her sore muscles. She wrapped her wet hair up in a towel, draped her silk robe around her slender waist, and rang her father.

" _Padme, how are you?"_ he asked when he answered, his familiar, deep voice bringing her comfort. Even if he and her mother were no longer married, and he had very high expectations of his daughters, she still loved him, and missed him. He was a man of principle, and stood by his values, even if they were different to Padme's, which was something she admired. And he had always encouraged her to strive for success, especially at Harvard.

"Dad, it's good to talk to you again. I've been keeping well."

 _"How's your mother?"_ The question was polite, but Padme felt awkward all the same. The forced communication between her parents was something she hated to take part in; being that messenger back and forth for most of her childhood had been quite painful.

"She's fine," she replied shortly. "Dad, I need your help."

" _What is it Padme?"_ he asked, growing concerned at the change in her voice. _"Are you in trouble?"_

She shook her head, which was pointless because he couldn't see her anyway, but it was simply a reaction. _"No. It's not about me. It's…"_ she paused. Her father was a very proper, conservative man. He wouldn't like what she was about to tell him at all. _"See, I have this friend, and he desperately wants to go to university. But, well, he had a bit of trouble when he was young and he's got a criminal record."_

She could hear her father breathing heavily on the other line as he listened to her, remaining silent for a time. _"Is this a friend of yours Padme?_ " he asked sharply, _"or a boyfriend?"_

"A friend, dad," she assured him immediately.

 _"Good. I don't want you getting 'involved' with someone like that, Padme. I forbid it._ " She grit her teeth. Her father had very high standards for his daughters, in all facets of life. He preferred men with generous aspirations, and bank accounts, who could take care of his little girls. When Sola had run off to Sweden and married Darred, it had enraged her father immensely, even though Darred himself, was an engineer. He had enthusiastically approved of Rush Clovis, bragging about him to his friends, insinuating that his future son-in-law was going to be an esteemed lawyer. Of course, that enthusiasm had turned quickly to outrage when he found out about his discretions, but Padme knew that a man like Rush was what her father wanted her to marry. Successful. Rich. A gentleman.

"I'm twenty-four dad," she reminded him firmly. "Hardly young enough to be 'forbidden' to do anything."

 _"We are not having this argument now,_ " he warned her. _"What exactly did you want my help for?_ "

She sighed. "Is there a way to get accepted into a university even with a criminal record? My friend, he's… he's got a brilliant mind. His work is incredible and he's so talented, I don't want to see him lose everything because he made a bad choice when he was sixteen."

 _"Padme you never change,"_ he said sadly. _"Always trying to help. I suppose this friend of yours in another one of your charity cases?_ "

She frowned. There was that word again: charity case. "Can you help me, or not?"

It seemed like an eternity before he responded, _"I'll see what I can do._ "

That was all she could hope for.


	10. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Honestly, I'm addicted to writing this story. I can't stop. I need help. I feel like I should stop updating so quickly and draw out a little of the suspense, but I CAN'T! I just have to keep writing!**_

 ** _The last chapter was probably a little boring. I'm sorry. Every story has boring chapters. But this one is better, trust me :) Oh, Padme, you need to open up your eyes and see what's in front of you!_**

 ** _Also; as I said last chapter, I don't know anything about applying to universities, especially in America (because I'm an Aussie gal through and through), so if this is not correct, please don't shut me down. It works for my plan for the story, so that's how things are gonna be._**

 ** _Side note: those wondering when/if Palpatine will make an appearance, I say "not until the sequel." And then you say, "sequel? There's going to be a sequel?" Yes, I am planning for a sequel, which will be rated M because I plan to explore Padme and Ani's relationship in a lot more detail, if you catch my drift ;) But enough about the future. Let's get back to the present!_**

 ** _Thank you so much for your constant support for this story. You guys are my rocks! Happy reading xx_**

* * *

It was several days before Padme heard back from her father, and they had been some of the tensest days of Padme's summer break. She still hadn't heard from Anakin; she supposed that was her fault. Of course he wouldn't want to talk to her, but she hadn't made an effort either, so they were both to blame. Her concern for him grew each day they were apart. Her sister's words haunted her every waking minute. _Your heart's in the right place, but there are some things even you can't fix._

She couldn't fix Anakin – not really. Did she even _want_ to fix him? – but she could try to help him. She was heavily involved now, and she felt obligated to do everything she could. Padme was not one to shy away from a challenge.

When her father finally contacted her, she answered the phone with trembling anticipation.

 _"Well?"_ she demanded, without even a proper greeting. She couldn't wait.

 _"I've been in touch with some colleagues, Padme. Your friend's situation is… difficult…_ " Padme's heart sank a little at his words. _"But,_ " he continued, _"if your friend is as brilliant as you say he is, then his criminal record might be overlooked. Might._ "

"Oh, that's," Padme beamed, suddenly full of hope. "That's wonderful!"

 _"It's not a certainty, Padme. I had to pull some serious strings to even get that much. My friend, Qui-gon Jinn, at the University of Chicago has taken pity on your friend. If he sends in samples of his work, and an application, there may be a chance he will get accepted. It's a slim chance, but."_

Padme was overjoyed. Ecstatic. Hopeful. "Thank you, thank you so much dad. Really. I…"

 _"I hope you realise how much I disprove of using such methods, Padme. It's borderline corruption."_

"I know, dad," she agreed sadly. Personally, she was against such methods. Her father had raised her that way. But she was doing the right thing, wasn't she? Anakin deserved a second chance. Padme couldn't let him throw away his dreams because he'd made a bad mistake. She simply couldn't. "I appreciate it. Really."

 _"I know you do Padme. I hope, for your sake, that your friend gets what he wants."_

Padme ended the conversation with her father, a smile on her face. _Ani, there's hope for you yet._ A sense of triumph surged through her. She was closer, one step closer to helping Anakin, to fulfilling her self-acclaimed duty to helping him. With this new knowledge, there was at least a tiny bit of hope that something good might happen. And Padme, being the optimistic person that she was, was willing to take that chance.

She found him where she always found him, underneath the bottom of a car. His fascination with mechanics was adorable. She was glad he had found something he enjoyed, to keep his mind off of his guilt. He needed that kind of respite. At first, he didn't acknowledge her presence, until she called his name quietly. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he stared at her, unblinking, in utter disbelief. Mouth parted slightly, brow furrowed, sweat beading on his upper lip, he looked positively stunning. "Padme." Her name fell from his lips almost like a mantra, but he didn't make to move. There was an expression in his eyes, pain and agony, that was mixed with confusion. _Of course_ , she thought to herself sadly. _He was probably expecting me to abandon him._

"Anakin." She approached him slowly, and he got to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. Adorably astonished.

"W-what?" he blurted out. "What're you doing here?" The words were slurred together, almost unintelligible, as he grappled within himself.

Smiling brightly at him, she reached for his hand. His palms were sweaty, but she savoured the feeling of his warm skin against hers, the way his hand dwarfed her, long fingers curling around hers. She ran her thumb over his knuckles, admiring the rough callouses on the pads of his fingers, the dirty oil that stained his skin, the faded scars and newer abrasions that adorned his fingers, like spider webs. These hands had known hardships; they were the hands of a troubled young man in need of comfort.

"I came to see you, Ani," she told him. He opened his mouth to protest, but she interrupted him. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

Blue eyes widened in complete astonishment and affection. Such expressive eyes. They suited him; like everything else about him, they were passionate and wild and dark and dangerous, and Padme was drawn to those eyes like a moth to flame. It was instinctual. He didn't say anything but he didn't have to. She knew how grateful he was just by looking at him. It was written all over his handsome face.

"I've got something to tell you," she said. "And you're going to listen to me. And you're not going to interrupt, or feel sorry for yourself, or dismiss it, understand?" He nodded his head, slowly, surprised by her sudden forcefulness, but not daring to question it. "Good."

He stood in complete, passive silence while she told him what she had found out from her father. Every now and then his eyebrow would twitch, and his lip would quiver, and Padme knew he wanted to speak, but he had agreed to listen to her, and wasn't about to break his word. Once she had finished, the beginnings of a smile broke out on his face, small and bewildered and amazed.

"Padme, I – that's…" he began, searching her face in clear disbelief. "I don't know what to say."

She took his other hand and beamed up at him. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

He stared down at their intertwined hands, face flushed, before saying, "thank you," sincerely and earnestly and _gratefully._ "You didn't have to – I mean, I didn't expect you…"

"I know," she said. "I wanted to help."

He swallowed and suddenly he looked very young; naïve and vulnerable and innocent. "Padme, you're so…" he paused, frowning as he tried to find the words to say. It was endearing that Anakin could be so smooth with his words when he was flirting or teasing, but then so unsure when he was being sincere. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."

But, just like that, his entire expression changed. Brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, lips in a thin line. He removed his hands from hers, his accusing eyes meeting hers. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded, suspiciously. "Why are you helping me?"

He was so temperamental that it stunned her. "Anakin," she began. "I want to help you, I care about you."

"I don't want your pity," he scowled, shutting her out again, putting up those walls that she had tried so hard to break down. But she wasn't going to give up on him.

"Don't do this, Ani," she told him, firmly, forcing him to meet her strong, steadfast gaze. "Don't shut me out again."

"I don't understand!" he suddenly burst out, hands flailing. He looked so _lost_. "How can you… after everything I told you? And you're just. I don't – "

She caught his wrists, stepping closer to him. His chest was heaving with the force of his breaths, she could practically _hear_ his heart pounding against his chest in time with the pulse through his wrists. Her presence seemed to have a calming effect on him, and his demeanour softened somewhat, shrinking down to that vulnerability she craved from him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Anakin," she repeated again, soothing him with her soft voice.

He peeked out at her from under long lashes, tentatively. "So, you're not… _scared_ of me? You don't…?"

"No, I'm not," she assured him with complete earnestness, breaking out into a smile. _Why wasn't she scared of him? Why had she dismissed it so easily?_ "I think it makes you… interesting."

There was a flash of humour in his eyes and slowly, very slowly, his smirk returned. "Are you saying I wasn't interesting before, Padme?" he teased, all playful and light and hearing him like that made Padme's heart swell with happiness. "That I was boring?" He was back to his teasing and his flirting and Padme was overjoyed to see it, for he no longer looked dark and brooding but light and relaxed. She didn't think she could have taken much more of Anakin's guilt and self-loathing.

"I don't think you could ever be called _boring_ , Ani," she responded with a flirtatious quip.

He grinned at her, triumphant, and she felt her heart skip a beat, her blood surge with confused affection at the sight of it, of him _happy_. Warmth flooded her cheeks and she bashfully looked away from him before she did something she regretted. Like kiss him. It was different from her previous feelings; not lusty or dark or primal. This was fuzzy and soft and light, like she was standing in the sun after being in a dark room for several hours. The sensation was so unexpected that she almost didn't recognise it – _almost_ … the beginnings of a spark just before the flame caught and spread.

"I'll take you home," he said after a while, though his demeanour had considerably brightened.

"On your motorbike?" she raised her eyebrows warily. "You know I hate that thing!"

He laughed at her reaction, shaking his head, and she wet her lips at the sight of him, the ease and grace of that simple action that had her completely transfixed. A very small, persistent voice in her head mocked her, informing that she would never _not_ feel this way about Anakin, no matter how determined she was.

"I'm not letting you walk home by yourself," he told her, suddenly protective and possessive. It was unexpected but Padme found it adorable that he cared so much about her. Even though she shouldn't. Even though she didn't feel anything but friendship for him – at least that was what she'd convinced herself to believe. She was slowly starting to realise that she liked Anakin. She liked him a lot, and the more he opened up to her, the more her affection grew.

"Hmm, what's more dangerous? Walking home alone at night, or riding with Anakin?" This flirtatious side to her was new and exciting but she made the most of it. Playful banter was so, _so_ much better than emotional breakdowns.

"I'm an excellent rider," he declared, demanding her to contradict him by crossing his arms.

"Sure," she replied in a monotone with a dramatic roll of her eyes, "if by excellent, you mean almost throwing off your passengers as you go around corners."

Anakin put a hand on her shoulder, gentle and warm and it sent shudders up her arm. He bent to look in her eyes, all serious and gorgeous and completely sincere, the smallest of smiles on his lips, blue eyes hooded just a little. It was the sexiest thing Padme had ever seen and she parted her lips instinctively, trying to keep her breathing under control.

"I'd never let you fall, Padme." The words were quiet, _so quiet_ and Padme felt her body ache at the sound of it, his dark, smooth voice, roughened by lust, washing over her skin in the most delicious way. In that moment, she believed him entirely, all concern gone, replaced with a steadfast trust that he would, _truly_ , never let her fall.

It took all she had to stutter out, "I'm holding you to that," in an attempt to be light-hearted and playful, but her voice was a hoarse, half-whisper of desire and she knew her attempts were fruitless. She was gone, so gone for him in that moment, and he knew it too, the look in his eyes confirmed as much.

Padme expected him to take it further, to make a snide remark or worse, try to kiss her, but he said nothing. Did she want him to? He merely looked at her with those _eyes_ and Padme suddenly felt very beautiful and desirable as he stared at her with utter adoration. She swallowed uneasily. He shouldn't be staring at her like that. It made her weak, her body as pliant as putty in his presence. It wasn't until he removed his hand from her shoulder that she was able to think properly again. Anakin had this ability to render her totally useless with just one glance, one touch and she hated how vulnerable it made her feel.

"W-we should get going t-then," Padme blurted out, a little louder than she meant to, completely ruining the moment, but her brain wasn't functioning normally. She felt… _drunk_. Drunk on the enigma that was Anakin Skywalker.

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck and went to find her a helmet. The ride home was a lot less reckless than the first time; no matter how much he teased her that she was being _precious_ , Anakin valued her safety and adhered to her concerns. She appreciated that.

They bid each other goodnight in rushed, awkward smiles and flushed cheeks. It was extremely silly of them, really, for they were both adults, yet they were acting like children, blushing and flirting and shying away. The absurdity of it made her giggle, and she stumbled up to her bedroom, giddy with laughter at the irony of the situation. _She_ had created this divide, forced Anakin to keep his distance and remain strictly friends. And now, she was wondering what would happen if. _If_. The potential such a question held was overwhelming.

What exactly was Anakin? Padme wasn't sure. She had always held a soft spot for him; stemming from their relationship as children, she assumed. That childhood affection had grown considerably over the past month she had been with him, and his complexity fascinated her. She found him incredibly attractive, and knew her body responded to him. But it wasn't her body that was second guessing herself. It was her mind, her heart, her very _soul_. The same soul that had sworn off affection and love and romantic feelings after Clovis had torn it out. She was still healing. Even so, the burning question continued to circulate as she lay in bed, eyes wide open staring at the black ceiling. _What if?_

She was divided about the entire situation, but she was certain about one thing; she cared about Anakin. That much was obvious. But what did that make him? The lines were so blurred, the area far too grey for her liking and the more she unravelled him, the more blurry the lines. It was as though she was focussing an old photograph, and every time she saw a new side to him, a new layer, she was focussing the lens just a little bit more, getting closer and closer to the final product. And she liked what she was seeing so far. She liked it more than she wanted to admit.

Padme fell asleep that night with a gooey smile on her face, her heart feeling lighter than air, happier than she had felt in a long, long time.


	11. Chapter 10

_**A/N: OH MY GOSH! Over 200 reviews! I can't believe it. I actually can't believe how much support this story has gained. And as my first SW story as well. Thank you all so, so, so, much! You have no idea how much this means to me.**_

 _ **Padme's getting closer and closer. She knows she feels something now, but she still won't let herself give in to it. It's so frustrating (yes, even for me, even though I'm making her like this, because I'm trying to stick to my plan). Why is that? Why won't she? We'll get to that in a bit. For now, enjoy some cuteness and some fluff xx**_

* * *

"We should do something." Anakin was stretched out on the floor of her bedroom, arms resting casually underneath his head, legs crossed at the ankles. Padme rolled her eyes from her seat at her desk. She was currently proof-reading Anakin's application, a pen between her teeth. For someone who could understand mathematical formulas like they were a second language, his spelling was atrocious. If Obi-wan had told her that helping Anakin would mean doing tedious things like this, she might not have agreed to it. And it didn't help that Anakin was completely unhelpful, sprawled out on the floor as though he was on vacation, making Padme do all the work.

"I _am_ doing something, Anakin," she told him grumpily as she circled yet another spelling mistake. "You could make yourself useful and help. This is _yours,_ you know."

Anakin laughed. "Nah, you're better at proofing than me. And spelling. And, y'know, English in general."

She sighed, exasperated. "Really, Anakin. You're what, nineteen? And you can't spell the word ' _definitely_?'"

He yawned, stretching out his long limbs, and Padme couldn't help but notice the sliver of golden skin exposed to her as his t-shirt rode up. The sharp angle of his hips, disappearing underneath the waistband of his shorts, the trail of fair, blonde hair that trickled down from his navel, the elegant planes of his abdomen; they caught her eye and she flushed in spite of herself. When he opened his eyes again, they found hers and he smirked when he realised she was staring at him.

"We all have our talents," he told her, his voice thick with a deeper meaning that Padme understood immediately. It lead to a series of unwanted questions springing up in her mind and she bit her lip, trying to shake such… _inappropriate_ images from behind her eyelids. "But seriously, we should do something. Anything else. I'm bored."

Padme scowled at him. "Well, I'm sorry that waiting for me to proofread _your_ freaking application is so boring for you, Anakin. Maybe I should just leave it and you can send in an application riddled with mistakes and throw away your chances of ever getting into university. Would that be less _boring_ for you?"

He seemed a little taken aback by her abruptness, but covered with a smooth smile, baiting her. "I was thinking purely for your sake, Padme, because, I'm sure you're pretty bored right now."

"Oh, I'm sure. You're just so selfless like that," she retorted, trying to remain strong but his humour got to her, breaking her resolve and she couldn't help but grin. "What did you have in mind?"

He stood up from his position on the ground and tied his shoulder-length hair into a low ponytail. Then, cocking his head to the side, the joints cracking, he rolled his shoulders back and he grinned at her. "There's this one place I'd like to take you. It's not too far away from here." When she crossed her arms suspiciously, he laughed, "don't worry. You'll like it."

Biting her lip, she contemplated his suggestion. Lately, they had been spending too much time either at home or at Anakin's work. It would be nice to spend some time with him, away from those environments; somewhere new and fresh. Smiling in consent, she followed him outside, "lead the way, Skywalker," to where he kept his motorbike. _Honestly, he needs a car. Is it that much to ask?_ She would never admit to him that she actually enjoyed riding with him, pressing herself close to him, feeling the thrum of the engine reverberate through his body and onto hers, his unique, musky, _Anakin_ smell filling her nose. No, she couldn't tell him that. She continued to feign her distrust of his favourite vehicle and his reckless driving, just to tease him.

The wind caught her hair as they flew by, causing it to billow out behind her underneath her helmet, loose strands catching in her mouth and teeth. Her nose and ears grew cold from the speed and exposure of the ride, but she pressed her cheek against the warmth of Anakin's back, curling her arms around his waist. Her sudden affection towards him surprised her, but she didn't shy away from it. Every moment with Anakin had made her question her growing feelings for him. Though she didn't know exactly how she felt, she knew she wanted to be around him. There was something about his presence that electrified her. It was scary and exciting. Unlike anything she had ever felt.

The 'place' Anakin took her was not what Padme was expected; he pulled up at the bottom of a steep cliff-face, the jagged rocks jutting out below like uneven steps. At the base, water lapped at the rocky shore before smoothing out into a wide expanse of water. Something nudged at Padme's memory, and she suddenly remembered this lake; coming here with her sister, family picnics before her parents divorced. The sudden influx of memories caused her eyes to fill with tears as she remembered some the last moments where her family had actually been happy. _I've been spending too much time around Anakin._ _My emotions are getting the better of me_.

"Are you alright?" Anakin asked her, noticing her watery eyes.

She blinked a few times, and then smiled at him. "I'm fine," she assured him. "This place… it just brings back memories of when I was a kid."

He took her hand, leading her up towards a set of wooden steps which were carved into the side of the cliff. "Come on, up here." She eyed the steps with disdain. There were so many of them, and so steep, and he expected her to _climb them?_ When she voiced her concerns, he merely rolled his eyes at her. "Stop complaining."

Frowning, she retorted, "Just because you're all fit and athletic, doesn't mean we all are."

He laughed at her and pulled her by the hand up the stairs, muttering, "if you get tired, I'll carry you," and she followed along blindly, because he was grinning that gorgeous, infectious grin at her and it made her insides squirm, and she was acutely aware of the warmth of his hand as it held hers, shooting sparks up her nerves and lighting her skin on fire. She was so responsive to him, more so than she had been before, and she was struggling to find any logical reason to deny him.

They arrived at the top, Padme slightly breathless and her face flushed with heat, but Anakin looked annoyingly refreshed. The sun teased his dark blond hair, giving it a golden, almost angelic glow, and lit his eyes up so they shone like chips of topaz. It was such a welcoming change from the darkness that had clouded him. Here, wind tousling his hair, white teeth glinting in the light, all easy and relaxed and _peaceful_ , Anakin was beautiful.

He noticed her staring at him and raised his eyebrows cockily, daring her to confess she had been eying him. But Padme was stubborn, if anything, and returned his smirk with a firm glance of her own, stance strong. Two could play at this game and she thrilled at the idea of teasing Anakin, _taunting_ him like he had her. A part of her was shocked that this change in personality, but for the most part, she embraced it. It was new and she liked it.

"It's nice here, right?" he turned and faced out towards the lake, hands serenely behind his back.

Padme smiled. "Yeah," she agreed. "I used to come here with my family when I was a kid." She sat down on the grass, crossing her legs underneath her. It was soft underneath her skin, and cool. Refreshing. There was something very tranquil about this place. The only sound came from the whistling of the wind, the chattering of insects from the rushes and the soft, gentle splashing of the water as it hit the rocks. It seemed to have a soothing effect on Anakin as well.

She remembered lying on the grass beside her sister, staring up at the shapes the clouds made and trying to identify them. She and Sola had spent a lot of time swimming out into the middle of the lake, or using the kayaks their grandparents had given them one Christmas. She smiled sadly at the memory. That had to have been almost seventeen years ago.

After a few moments of staring peacefully out into the horizon, he faced her again. "Something's bothering you." It was posed as an observation, not a question, and Padme's heart skipped a beat at the thought that he could _sense_ when she was upset, without her even saying anything.

"I'm fine, Ani."

He frowned. "You're biting you lip," he informed her, as though that explained everything.

She couldn't help but smile at that. "You're persistent."

"I learnt it from you." He sat down next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him, resting back on his elbows. The way he was innocently spread out, lean and elegant and lanky, made Padme blush. His blue eyes scrutinised every contour of her face, and Padme knew that he wouldn't stop until he got an answer out of her. They were strangely alike in that sense.

"Being here…" she began, "It's just – I came here when I was a child, it's bringing back… memories."

Anakin reached for her hand, fingers brushing over hers softly. "Sad memories," he realised. "I'm sorry, Padme. I didn't want – "

She squeezed his hand. "Don't apologise, Anakin. It's alright. I like it here. I've always liked it here." When he didn't seem convinced, she changed the subject, "Sola and I used to go swimming out here. Have I told you about the time I almost got eaten by an eel?"

"No?" Anakin raised his eyebrows, suddenly intrigued. "I didn't think you could get eaten by eels?"

"Trust me," Padme shuddered at the memory, "I think you can. It tangled around my legs and I screamed and almost ran across the water."

Anakin laughed heartily, shaking his head at her in amazement. "I would have liked to see that."

She hit him in the shoulder, playfully, but still enough that it was uncomfortable. "Don't laugh. It was traumatic!"

"Oh I'm sure. Because, you know, eels are such ferocious beasts."

With a defiant cry of annoyance, Padme went to hit him again, but Anakin blocked her with his forearm. The impact caused her to fall into him, and suddenly his hands were resting on her hips and she was sprawled against him, fists curled against his chest. She could fell the rise and fall of his heavy breathing beneath her, and the suggestive manner in which she lay atop him made her flush to the roots of her hair. Anakin seemed unaffected, hands still on her hips, chaste but enough to elicit a fiery response deep within her core. He reached up and brushed some of her curls away from her face with tender, soft fingers. It was such a lovely gesture, so full of affection that those warm feelings she had tried to suppress resurfaced. Those blue eyes of his never left hers, intense and wanting and waiting… waiting for what? Slowly, her gaze traveled lower, to rest on the soft curves of his parted lips, inviting and full and ripe and right _there_ and all she had to do was lean closer…

 _No! I can't!_

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, and trying to ignore Anakin's obvious arousal coming to life against her thigh – though the thought that she had caused such a reaction within him made her tremble – and pushed herself off him. Reluctantly. What was stopping her? Why was there such a block in her mind, preventing her from giving into Anakin? She clearly wanted to. Her confusion was mirrored in his expression, though he didn't question her actions. She was angry at that. Shouldn't he have? Part of her wanted him to. Wanted him to demand answers from her, demand why she was constantly leading him on only to pull back. It wasn't fair of her, Padme knew. But she couldn't help it.

Silence ensued between them; awkward and uncomfortable.

She realised, with sudden horror, that maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to fall in love with him.

To be frank, Padme was terrified. She had been in love before; at least, she had thought it was love. It had been a sweet love, based on mutual interest and mild attraction, conservative and gentle and… nice. But not like this. This wasn't nice. This was something completely different; terrifying uncharted territory. It was consuming and numbing and electrifying and Padme was so, so unprepared for it, for these new feelings that Anakin stirred inside her. It was the intensity of these feelings that stopped her. She wasn't ready, not yet. She liked to work slowly, the gradual burn was appealing to her. This was a wildfire, fierce and untamed and it surged through her blood and Padme hated being out of control, particularly of her own emotions.

Anakin rubbed the back of his neck, furrowing his eyebrows – a nervous habit of his, Padme had ascertained. She instantly felt guilty. She didn't want to hurt him.

"My mother's getting married," he suddenly muttered, desperately trying to close the gap between them. Padme was grateful for his outburst. It gave her something else to focus on and be astonished about, other than her distressing revelation about her feelings.

"Oh my," she said, surprised, but pleased all the same. Shmi had been a single mother all her life, so a marriage had to be good for her. "That's wonderful, Anakin. When's the wedding?"

"A few weeks." He didn't sound too thrilled about it, Padme caught, but she supposed it was just a natural reaction for a son to be protective of his mother, especially when she was getting married to another man. "Nothing big, y'know, we don't have a lot of family around. But Obi-wan's going, and Ahsoka." Suddenly, he looked back at her, nervous and uncertain and insecure. There was a struggle inside him, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before finally speaking. "I want you to come."

She was taken aback by his request. "M-me?"

He nodded, completely serious. "Yeah. I mean, mom would like to see you there, and – well, I'd – I'd like you to be there. With me."

It was a date, she realised. Not exactly what she had pictured, or how she had planned for it to happen, but Anakin Skywalker was asking her on a date, in that completely adorable way of his, and regardless of how conflicted she felt, she couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Ani, I'm not invited."

He remained persistent. "I'm inviting you." The sincerity and stubborn air about him was endearing. She found herself constantly captivated by this boy, against her wishes. How could she possibly deny him? When he was looking at her like that, pleading with her like that.

"Sure, Ani. I'll go with you."

The smile that broke out on his face was more dazzling than the sunrise.


	12. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Padme realises. And it's wonderful. And it's heartbreaking. And you can probably guess where this is heading now. I am, to some extent, trying to keep to the SW story, in my own way. They have struggles. Padme and Anakin's relationship is built on struggles. No matter how much I love them and how much I believe they belong together, the universe was against them from the start. And that is why they are possibly my favourite pairing out of everything.**_

 _ **Enjoy xx**_

* * *

"You look… beautiful." Anakin stood in her doorway, staring at her in awe and his compliment made her weak at the knees. Padme knew she wasn't unattractive, and she had certainly put in a lot of effort to look pretty. Her brown curls were pinned back elegantly with a dragonfly clip at the back of her head, tumbling over her shoulder in glossy waves. She had chosen a flowy blue dress, with a lace neck and sleeve that swirled around her knees prettily when she walked. On her feet were a pair of cream ballet flats. Yes, she looked pretty, she had to admit. But the way Anakin was staring at her made her feel as though she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

"You look pretty handsome yourself." He did. His black slacks and crisp white shirt clung to his long, lean frame, emphasising how tall he was. He had tamed his hair, still restrained in a small ponytail, but strands no longer hung waywardly in front of his eyes. The slender, charcoal tie that reached just above his belt buckle was crooked, and Padme reached out with delicate fingers, straightening the Windsor knot and readjusting it. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating. He grinned at her as she pulled back, as a form of _thank you_.

"We'd better go," he said. He took her by the hand and out to where a black sedan was parked in front of her driveway. She sighed in relief that they were actually travelling under the protection of a roof; for it took far too long to style her hair and she didn't want all that effort to go to waste.

A driver got out, and opened the door for the two of them. As she slid across the leather seats, she felt Anakin's hand resting on the small of her back, guiding her. The act made her question her initial thoughts about Anakin. Sure, he might have had several sexual partners and never really had a serious relationship, but he was sweet, as least, he was around her. That was enough.

They sat next to each other in a comfortable silence. Anakin's legs were so long that he looked quite ridiculous with his knees drawn up high. His fingers tapped an indiscernible rhythm against her leg, but the other reached for her hand, closing around it with grateful softness. He was nervous, Padme could tell. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and was rewarded with one of those lovely, genuine smiles that her heart ache. All she wanted was for this boy to be happy.

The wedding was held in a small, quaint looking church, with a delicate garden out the back for the reception. It was a beautiful venue, intimate but still lovely; the path to the ornate wooden doors lined with rosebushes and it gave the whole thing an antique, yet elegant feel. People were already filing into the church to take their seats. Padme saw Ahsoka standing with Obi-wan, looking cute in a red dress and black, heeled boots, the latter dapper in his cream suit, making the red of his hair and beard more prominent. There was another woman on his arm, a tall, slender woman with a pointed chin, fair blonde hair and a regal, straight nose. She was beautiful.

Anakin lead her over to them, nudging Ahsoka in the arm playfully.

"You don't scrub up too bad, Snips," he told her with a sly grin. "Shame you can't hide the scabs on your knees."

"I'll give _you_ scabs on the knees, Skyguy," she growled at him, causing him to roar with laughter, a hearty, chest rumbling laughter that was reserved purely for Ahsoka.

"Obi-wan," Padme reached out to take his hand in a greeting, ignoring Anakin and his young friend, leaving them to their bickering.

"It's lovely to see you again, Padme," he said kindly, before gesturing to the woman beside him. "This is Dr. Satine Kryze. She's been a – a friend of mine for many years."

Satine smiled fondly at him. "Oh, Obi," she chided, her voice coated in a slight British lilt. "There's no need to be so modest." Offering out a slender, pale hand, she turned her light blue eyes on Padme. Everything about Satine was fair, she had an old world beauty about her, a sort of regal elegance that was uncommon amongst most women. Padme gleaned that she and Obi-wan were more than just friends, but he was far too conservative to say so. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear."

Padme took her smooth hand, returning her smile. "Likewise."

Satine smiled wryly, her thin lips curling into an amused smirk. "I gather that Obi-wan has not told you about me." Bashfully, Obi-wan ran a hand through his hair, but Satine only laughed, a clear, high laugh. "I am not surprised. My dear Obi is very private. I, on the other hand, am not." She placed a hand on his arm and leant over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. The man flushed and looked uncomfortable, but pleased all the same.

Anakin and Ahsoka finally stopped yapping at each other and re-joined the conversation, though they kept sneaking glances at each other. Padme sighed happily; Anakin was such a child sometimes, though she enjoyed watching him with Ahsoka. It just looked so… natural. Unforced. Instinctual. Easy.

Suddenly, his hand was on her shoulder, lips at her ear and he said in hushed tones, "I've got to go. I'm giving my mother away. But I'll see you later." It was a solemn promise and Padme almost giggled at how ridiculous it was. It wasn't like she was going to get lost or anything. But the message was clear; _wait for me_. He left and Padme watched his retreating form, missing the suspicious glances that Ahsoka threw her way. After a few minutes, they went inside and took their seats at the pews a few rows from the front. It wasn't a big wedding, only thirty people or so. But it was lovely all the same.

Standing beside the altar was the groom, looking nervous, crossing his hands in front his body. Padme watched him curiously; it was the best part of any wedding, seeing the groom's face as his bride was revealed to him. As most little girls had, Padme had often dreamed of her wedding; her imagination had planned for a large, lavish wedding, full of pomp and grandeur and all of Padme's friends and an absolutely stunning gown. However, as she watched the groom while Anakin lead his mother down the aisle, she realised she had been missing the most important part. The groom. The man she was to marry. _That_ , she decided then and there, was the most important part of a wedding. All the grandeur in the world would amount to nothing if the man at the altar was not worth it.

As Shmi came closer, her husband-to-be's face lit up in absolute devotion, tears spilling from his eyes as he gazed upon his bride. Such a look it was, so full of love and affection and _life_ , Padme felt herself becoming emotional at the sight of it. She looked lovely, dressed in a simple white gown adorned with lace, and a small veil atop her curled hair, but it was the glow about her that was the most beautiful; she was radiant, exuding happiness and love. It shone out of her very skin.

Padme smiled tearfully as Anakin lead his mother up to the altar before he turned and looked directly at her, eyes burning into her soul. Even as his mother said her vows, he never took his eyes off her. That look… Padme didn't want to admit it, but it was almost the same look the groom had given his bride once she appeared. An outpouring of affection and awe and adoration. Padme felt unworthy of such a gaze, particularly since she had continued to deny him repeatedly. It was too much, way too much, but at the same time, it was so _right_ , and her pulse quickened and she stared right back at him, hoping she mirrored at least half of his affection.

Yes… she really was falling in love with him.

Ahsoka nudged her in the ribs with her elbow, coming close to her ear. She jolted. "Are you guys' right?" the girl smirked, slyly. "Now is not the time to have eye-sex."

Padme blanched and turned to Ahsoka, horrified at such a statement. "We're not – I don't know what you're talking about."

Ahsoka grinned victoriously. "I'm young, Padme, not dumb. You can't keep your eyes off each other."

Fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat, Padme tried to find a quick comeback, but she couldn't, because the truth was, they had probably locked eyes on each other for ten solid minutes without respite, and if Ahsoka hadn't interrupted, they would have continued to be. _He started it_ , she groaned, acknowledging that she was absolutely, thoroughly _helpless_ when it came to Anakin, and she was finding it more and more difficult to suppress her feelings. Every moment spent with him and they grew stronger and stronger. Almost painfully so.

As the bride and groom sealed their marriage with a kiss, there was an uproar of applause, and Padme clapped along with them, desperately trying not to look at Anakin, but proving impossible because he looked so incredibly happy that she couldn't _not_ admire him.

"You love him." Padme and Ahsoka were sitting on a wooden bench outside the church, waiting for Anakin. At the sudden proclamation, she trained her eyes on the younger girl, confused, questioning.

"Excuse me?"

"Anakin," she reiterated, as though Padme didn't know who she was talking about. "You love him, don't you?"

Padme frowned at her bluntness and lack of tact. Both Ahsoka and Anakin had a knack for making everything so… simple. Whereas Padme tended to overcomplicate everything, overthink everything until she was just a bundle of uncertainty.

 _Yes._ "I don't think that's any of your business, Ahsoka." _Yes, I do. I love him._

The young girl frowned at her. "Yes, it is!" she insisted. "I care about Anakin, okay! And you seem to make him happy. All I want is for him to be happy."

"I…I don't know how I feel," she began. Love was a strong word; it held too much weight, too much expectation. Padme wasn't ready to commit herself to the heaviness of love, connotations associated with it. The last time she had been in love, it had ruined her.

Clearly upset at not getting the response she wanted, Ahsoka pouted and got up and left. "Don't you hurt him, Padme," she said through gritted teeth as she left. "Don't you dare hurt him. He deserves… more."

Sighing, Padme placed her head in her hands. Part of her cursed herself for overthinking everything and being so complicated. She had feelings for Anakin, yet she could not admit them. Not even to herself. Was she ashamed? Was she embarrassed? Was she afraid? Yes. No. Maybe. She couldn't comprehend it. Everything had happened so fast. It had only been just over a month since Anakin had come back into her life. A month was far too short to be having such deep feelings for one individual – particularly a boy who was so much younger than her.

Padme Naberrie did not believe in love at first sight, or anything like that. Love was complicated and such feelings took time to develop fully. A month was not long enough. Not _nearly_ long enough. She couldn't possibly love him, could she? It was too soon.

"Are you alright?" Anakin was standing over her, apprehensive, and it was then that she realised she had been scowling at the ground.

Meeting his gaze, she assuaged him with a smile. "I'm fine, Ani."

"Ahsoka annoying you?" The weight of him sitting down next to her was comforting, and she was overwhelmed by the heady scent of him.

"No. We were just… talking," she didn't say anything more and Anakin didn't push it. "It was a beautiful wedding, Ani. Your mother looks so happy."

He glanced over at the newlyweds, grinning when he saw his mother clutching her new husband affectionately, tears springing in her eyes. It was such a happy sight. "Yeah. She is." His demeanour changed after a moment, not drastically so, but a little of the euphoric aura siphoned off as he turned back to face her, knees brushing against her own. "Padme… I-I've been thinking…"

"Oh _god_ ," she teased, light-hearted. "That's never a good sign."

He rolled his eyes at her, but smirked all the same. She enjoyed playful banter as much as he did. "Good things have been known to happen from me thinking, believe it or not," he retorted cheekily.

"Like what?" Padme challenged. "Deciding to drive a dangerous vehicle instead of a car like any other normal person?"

He feigned offence, clutching a hand to his chest in mock insult. "It fits my image, Padme. It makes me all bad and mysterious and… _sexy_ ," at the word, his eyes darkened just a little. _Yes, you certainly are sexy, Anakin Skywalker_.

She refused to indulge him. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Anakin, but a man who still lives with his mother can't possibly be _any_ of those things. Motorbike or not."

"It's worked so far," he laughed, but Padme's face didn't. How many other girls had fallen for this, this casual charm of this that had her completely captivated? He certainly wasn't shy in informing her of his experience with woman. He must have thought it would impress her. It only served to make her scowl.

"Well," she retorted, testily. "I'm glad you get what you want."

Sensing he had said the wrong thing, he took her hand, "Padme, t-that's not what I meant. I'm sorry."

She chuckled darkly. "Sorry? What are you sorry for, Anakin? For sleeping with woman because it fits your 'image'?"

"N-no," he protested, even though it was the wrong thing to protest against. "For making you upset. I didn't want that. I wanted to tell you, that – I…"He had turned all nervous and insecure again.

"What, Anakin? What do you want to tell me?"

He struggled within himself for a moment, then shook his head and surged forward. "This. You… this is different. So different. It's never been like this… I've never felt like this. Before."

No. No, he couldn't. He couldn't be saying what he was about to say. Padme wasn't hearing this right. She was _not_ ready for this. She had barely grasped onto her own feelings and here he was, all gorgeous and faltering, confessing his feelings. She didn't want to hear it.

"Don't Ani," she warned.

He remained firm, brow and jaw set and he placed a hand in front of him, a physical gesture telling her to stop. "No, let me finish. _You_ have to listen to _me_ , now."

Reluctantly, Padme nodded and remained passive.

"Ever since you came back into my life, I've… I've been drawn to you. I can't explain it. I don't understand. But, I – it's never been like this before. And. I mean never. Just ask Ahsoka," he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck again. He was going to rub the skin raw if he continued. "It's always… y'know – physical, just physical. Nothing else. No emotions or. Just sex." The bluntness of it made Padme wince. She didn't want to know that he had never formed attachments with other girls. That he'd just slept with them for kicks and then discarded then when he was done. Why on earth would he think she'd want to know that?

"Being around you, Padme, it's like – well, it's fucking amazing. I just want to be around you all the time, y'know? Like. Honestly, I don't even know how to explain this. Making a complete ass out of myself, _fuck –_ " He paused, gathered his thoughts, and even though he was swearing and stuttering and not making a lot of sense, Padme felt sudden very warm inside. Fuzzy. Gooey. Lovely. Her cheeks were the colour of beetroot, at least, that was what they felt like. And so was his.

"What I'm trying to say is…" he looked at her then, reaching for her hand, and she didn't pull away, because he had stirred something inside her. As much as she didn't want to hear this, she _ached_ to hear him say it. Those words. The words her poor searching heart longed to hear.

"I like this. Being with you. Like this." He looked so beautiful and genuine, blue eyes burning into her soul.

She didn't speak for a while. His words caught her breath, stole the voice from her, and all she could do was stare at him, taking in the gravity of his words, innocent and yet the weight of what they insinuated, what he has stipulated without actually admitting it. He loved her. Eventually, her mouth remembered how to move and she smiled.

"I like it too." _I love you, Ani._

Suddenly, their faces were moving closer, closing the gap between them. She could see his top lip quivering, and the length of his long eyelashes as he blinked, silently asking for permission. Padme didn't know when she gave it, but suddenly his lips were on hers, soft and gentle and warm, and she was moving hers in synchronisation, allowing him to suck on her bottom lip for minute, before his tongue licked around the edges of her mouth, probing, tasting, begging for entry. And she was about to give it, too, because it was the greatest feeling she'd ever felt and the taste of him was addictive, and his passion set her on fire and she never, _never_ wanted to leave this paradise. She could have died and gone to heaven and possibly wouldn't have even noticed because she was just so lost in _Anakin._

The more rational part of her brain suddenly kicked into gear and she froze against his mouth, making him groan a little in surprise. "Anakin," she murmured against his lips, unable to remove them just yet, because he felt like heaven, but she opened her eyes. His were closed, and he looked almost cherubic. "I _can't_ , I – "

He swallowed her protests, moving his lips against her again, a hand sliding up the back of her neck to bury in her hair, crushing her too him. "Don't," he whispered. "Don't fight this, Padme. Not now." She couldn't come up with a logical reason to continue to deny him, so she gave in, letting him taste her, their tongues dancing an age old routine, and Padme had never felt so wonderful. They pulled away, Anakin sucking gently on her bottom lip as they parted, and pressed their foreheads together. There was an endearing smile on his face and he uttered a small, strangled laugh, as though he couldn't believe what had just happened. Padme couldn't think. In that moment, she merely existed. Existed in Anakin. It was so blissful, so enlightening. She had never felt so alive.

 _Harvard._

The sudden thought sliced through her bliss, as she realised that she had made a terrible mistake. In less than a month, she would be returning to Harvard and Anakin? Anakin could be anywhere. There couldn't be anything between them, it would only end in horrible heart break. As she came to this realisation, a piece of her soul broke away. She had to end it, now, before it was too late, before they couldn't let go. It would hurt him, she knew that, and her as well, but it was the only thing to do, the right thing to do.

Opening her eyes, a single tear slid down her cheek. "Ani, I can't do this," she muttered, heart broken. "I just _can't_."

Standing up, she ran from him, wrenching her hand from his grip and refusing to look back, for if she saw him staring after her with those beautiful eyes of his, she would lose all her resolve and go rushing back to him. He called out to her, but she ignored him, called a cab, and hurried home.

 _Harvard_. The one thing she loved so much. She never thought she would actually loathe going back to Harvard. It was her home, her duty, her passion. Yet, here she was, questioning herself, all because of Anakin. _It'll never work, Padme_ , she convinced herself. _You are doing the right thing._ Was she though? Then why did she feel so wretched? Like a piece of her heart had been ripped out?

"Because I love him."

The simplicity of the statement made her sigh. She had been hiding the truth from herself out of fear and uncertainty, but deep down, she had known this all along. She loved him. Anakin was complex and reckless and passionate, and she had fallen deeply in love with every single part of him and it hurt. She didn't want this. She didn't ask for this. But she loved him and now that she had admitted it out loud, there was no going back.

Distraught, Padme ran up to her bedroom, threw herself on her bed, and sobbed, sobbed at the bitterness of the situation she was in. She had to be the stronger one, she was older, after all, she had to stay away from him; keep her feelings under control. Anakin certainly wouldn't be able to. She had to remain strong. For him. For herself. For their sanity.

 _Oh, Ani. Why did I have to fall in love with you?_


	13. Chapter 12

_**A/N: You guys are seriously awesome. I love you. I'm sorry I didn't update as quickly this time, I've been swamped with work! But, I still smashed it out. This is... heavy, I think. Poor Jobal. And the ending... I don't really know. I guess you'll just have to read it and judge for yourself.**_

 _ **Side note: I've been listening to 'Georgia' by Vance Joy lately. Love that song, and think it fits pretty well with this story.**_

 _ **Enjoy xx**_

* * *

Padme Naberrie was in love with Anakin Skywalker.

Hopelessly. Madly. Completely.

And she hated every second of it.

If this was love, she didn't want it anymore. Never had she felt such _agony_ before. It was as though someone had come along, broken her ribs, ripped open her chest, seized her beating heart and crushed it into a million, bloody pieces right in front of her eyes. Her entire body craved him; craved his company, his soft lips against her skin, his hands running through her hair, craved his very soul. It was all she could think about. Wondering if his lips felt just as delicious on other parts of her body; sliding down her jaw, suckling her nipples, kissing between her trembling thighs. His name resounded in every painful beat of her heart. Anakin occupied her every waking thought, her sweetest dreams, her worst nightmares.

And yet, she could not bear the thought of seeing him again – seeing his heartbroken expression. It had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do, running from him, leaving him. But she needed to think. There was so much she needed to figure out, and she could never think clearly when around Anakin.

Padme had always known what she wanted. Unlike her older sister, who was far more hair-brained and carefree, she had set herself a plan, a list, if you will, of how her life was going to play out. School. Harvard. Travel. Career. Marriage. Children. It was all organised in a particular order inside her brain. So far, her life had followed that plan to the letter. She had graduated school as valedictorian. She was approaching her final year at Harvard. Everything was flowing smoothly, the only bump in the road being her parent's divorce. The last thing she had planned for was the enormous road block that was Anakin.

He made her question everything she valued. Her education. Her aspirations. Her precious _plan._ He had entered her life so unexpectedly and made himself annoyingly uncomfortable and she was definitely not prepared for it.

What was she supposed to do now?

 _I love him._

So, like every self-respecting, forward thinking woman, she made a pros and cons list. She took a piece of paper and jotted down every single reason she could think of, for and against. And in the end, it had all ended in tears and scrunched up pieces of paper and broken pens and cries of frustration. It was no use. She couldn't chose between Harvard and Anakin, it was like choosing between the heart and the lungs. Both were equally important, and she couldn't have one without needing the other. And she _needed_ , Anakin. Oh, how she needed him. He made her feel alive.

The only solution to her problem seemed to fizzle down to a long-distance relationship, which was something Padme was not too thrilled about. From what she had heard, such relationships never ended well; because one of the parties either cheated – not that she could ever picture Anakin cheating on her, or vice-versa – or the pain of being apart was too much and it was easier just to give up. Judging from Anakin's personality, Padme doubted he could cope with a long distance relationship. And she couldn't either. It was enough to apart from him for a few days, but weeks? Months? It was unthinkable. Even with modern technology, Padme would desire his physical touch, even just holding his hand, or being in his arms. The distance would tear them apart. It would only hurt them.

Torn, Padme had kept herself locked away in her bedroom, refusing to speak to anyone, even her own mother. She was so conflicted and confused and _lost_ and had no idea how to proceed next. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't eat. The weight of the world seemed to rest on her shoulders, crushing her lungs and making it hard to breathe. _Why is it all so complicated?_ She wanted both, but having both seemed too far out of reach. Anakin would distract her from her studies, and Harvard would distract her from Anakin.

Padme was a pragmatic person. She knew the cost of entering into a relationship with Anakin. She also knew that if she voiced these options to him, he would suggest something complete crazy, like _following_ her, giving up his dreams and hopes of getting in a university just to be with her, and that was something she could not ask of him. Not now. Not when he was so close to finally getting what he wanted, after struggling so much and dealing with so much guilt. He was finally on the right track, and she didn't want to be _that_ person, the person responsible for him throwing his life away. She was not worth it.

It had been three days since she'd seen Anakin, when her mother came into her bedroom with a cup of tea.

"Padme," she said softly, concern written all over her face. "Are you alright, darling?"

She looked over at her mother from her position on her bed, a small smile pulling at her lips. Jobal looked so worried as she approached her daughter, placing the steaming china mug into her outstretched hands.

"I'm fine, mom," she lied and took a sip, letting the hot liquid warm her body from the inside. It was herbal, just what she needed, and the smell and taste had an instant calming effect on her mind. Jobal sat next to her, putting her hand gently on her daughter's shoulder.

"You're my daughter, Padme. I can tell when something's bothering you." When Padme refused to acknowledge the question, she added in gentle tones, "You can tell me anything, darling. Anything at all."

Padme sighed. There were just some things she couldn't discuss with her mother. But, perhaps she could give her some insight into the complications of being in love. Seeing as her parents had gotten divorced after what had been a fairly comfortable marriage, something had to have happened to change the way they felt. It had always been a question on Padme's mind ever since she was a young girl. She had just never felt comfortable with asking them, as once she went to boarding school, she'd hardly seen her again. Now, though, she was an adult, and had a realistic view on what love was actually like. It didn't make sense that all of a sudden her parents had fallen out of love. They'd had two children together. It must be more complicated than that.

"I've been meaning to ask you," she began, tentatively, "why did you and dad get divorced?"

Jobal's smile faltered, only a little, but enough to know that the question was something she hadn't been expecting, and didn't entirely want to answer. After several moments of silence, she eventually smiled.

"I've been wondering when you would ask this question," she admitted. "Probably ten years later than expected, actually."

"I never really thought about it," Padme said. "I mean, I kind of just accepted it. You guys were fighting quite a lot, so I assumed that was it. But, it had to be something bigger than that, right?"

Jobal nodded. "Yes," she said, sadly. "Love is complicated, Padme. Far more so than you realise. You're father and I met in college, you know? At a _party_ , if you can believe it." There was a spark in her eyes at the memory, and it sent a pang of sadness through Padme's heart. She suddenly felt guilty asking such a deep question, but her mother was going with it now, there was no going back. Perhaps, she didn't _want_ to hear the answer. Perhaps it would ruin the idea of love all together, make her realise that it would never work with Anakin.

"We were so young, just turned nineteen. Your father was such a brilliant young man, he had such a passion for life, you know? I know, it doesn't seem like that now, but he was _wild._ The things he got me to do…" her voice trailed off into a kind of miserable laugh. Padme instantly regretted asking this question. "Anyway, once we graduated, we got married and moved out here. Sola came along after that. Everything was lovely, we had such a lovely little family, I had a wonderful job, your father worked at the local university as a professor. I didn't think it could get any better. It was all I wanted."

She paused for a second, and Padme though she saw tears welling in her brown eyes, but Jobal continued on, for her daughter's sake.

"Your father is a very ambitious man, Padme," she said. "You remind me of him when he was younger. There was so much he wanted out of life, so much he wanted to achieve. I was happy with our house that we had built together, and the family that we had built together, but I knew, deep down, that he wanted more. Not long after you were born, your father was offered a position at Harvard as an economics professor. It was a dream come true for him. He'd always said he wanted to go to an Ivy League. Of course, when he found out, he immediately asked me to move to Boston with him. But I – "

Padme took her mother's hand and squeezed it. She knew what happened. Her father had taken the position at Harvard, coming home every weekend to be with his family. Padme had hardly noticed, she was only a toddler at the time, and then, once she reached school age, she was only home on the weekends anyway. She had never thought anything odd about it. She had been too young to understand.

"I couldn't…" Jobal continued, voice rougher with emotion. "Sola was at school, she'd made such great friends, she was almost ready to graduate. And you – you were just starting. And I had a wonderful job, with wonderful people. What your father asked of me was – it was too much." At this, she turned to Padme, her expression completely serious. "Marriage is based on compromise, Padme," she told her firmly. " _All_ relationships are based on compromise – a constant cycle of giving and taking, making things work. And when… when that breaks down, when one person takes more than the other can give, it fails."

She sighed. "Your father took the position and came home every weekend. He told me that it wouldn't affect our marriage… he _promised me_ ," her voice had gone quiet now, trembling as she relived those memories. It brought tears to Padme's eyes to watch her mother's sadness. "But it did. It strained our relationship. He was constantly under pressure to stay back, and… even though he loved me, loved us, he loved his job more. I knew it. He knew. In the end, we just kept fighting whenever he was home. About moving. About you. About Sola. It – "

"I'm sorry, mom," Padme interrupted, several tears clinging to her eyelashes. She had no idea it had been like that. It was so… heartbreaking. Memories of their arguments came back to her; disturbed sleep from the strength of their shouting, her mother crying in her room. Now that she understood, now that she was old enough, she realised that life was complicated, and anyone who thought otherwise was delusional.

"Don't apologise, darling," she said, giving her a small smile. "It was never your fault. You girls, you were all I wanted. You, this house, that was enough for me. Your father wanted more. I couldn't blame him for being who he was. He had been that way ever since I met him. I'd just forgotten, that was all," the smile on her face broke Padme's heart. "That was why he made you attend boarding school. He wanted you to get the best life you could. And, it worked, didn't it? You're at Harvard now."

Padme nodded. "Yeah," she muttered through tears. "I just… I never – "

"It's in the past, Padme. Don't feel sorry for me. If anything, feel sorry for your father."

It was a lot to take in. And, if anything, it made Padme's situation worse. _She_ was ambitious too. There were things she wanted out of life; she wanted a career, she wanted to travel. Would she be the same as her father? If she entered into a relationship with Anakin, would she decided that her career was more important too? It troubled her. Up until this point, she'd never thought about it before. Now… now that she had these immensely strong feelings for Anakin, it threw everything out of balance. Was her love for him stronger than her desire to be successful? Her desire to make a change in the world. Her duty?

She didn't know.

If Jobal sensed Padme's distress, she didn't say anything. She merely kissed her forehead softly, smiling against her skin. "I know the reason you asked this question. You might think you are a good politician, but even _you_ can't hide your feelings from your mother."

Padme was about to retort, deny any accusations, but Jobal simply smiled. "If it's meant to be, it will work. All you need is the will to make it work."

She left then, leaving Padme to her thoughts, feeling more confused than before, it that was even possible. As she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, she contemplated her mother's words. _All you need is the will to make it work._ Was she willing to give him that chance? Even though it could tear them apart?

A sudden, loud, thumping sound from downstairs interrupted her mental conflict. She sat up, alarmed, confused. Her mother was asleep. It was very, _very_ , late. What on earth was happening?

Trembling, nervous and scared, she tiptoed downstairs, towards the source of the noise. The shadow of a figure was outside the door, looming up rather intimidatingly. Padme gulped and reached for some sort of weapon, _anything_ to make her feel comfortable. Her searching fingers found a kitchen knife, not that large, but enough to give her a least a little bit of solace. Clutching the handle with trembling hands, she wrenched the door open.

" _Ani_?"

He was staggering, swaying, struggling to keep upright. There was a bottle of… of something – Padme couldn't see it properly as it was dark, in his hands. He looked terrible. Hair a mess, eyes bloodshot and dropping, jaw slack. He looked… _drunk_.

"My… m-mom…" was all he said, before he lurched forward, and Padme barely had time to catch him, stumbling under the weight of him. "S-she's."

Padme put her arms around him, careful not to stab him with the knife, let him lean her shoulder for a moment. She had never seen him like this. Ever. It was alarming. What had happened to his mother? It must have been something terrible, for him to be in such a state. Without asking any questions, she brought him inside, which proved a struggle since he couldn't stand up and kept bumping into walls, and led him towards the couch.

No matter what she was feeling, right now Anakin needed her. She couldn't let him down. She loved him.


	14. Chapter 13

_**A/N: Sorry I left you hanging there at the end. It was cruel. But I'm updating this quickly to make up for it. Please forgive me.**_

 _ **Also, friendly reminder that this story is Romance/Angst. So yes, there will be a lot of angst, and sorrow and moments where you just go "WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE TOGETHER AND HAVE BEAUTIFUL TWINS AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER?" Padme and Anakin's story is deeply tragic. Even though this is my own take on the prequels, I'm still heavily invested in the tragedy of their relationship. I live for stories like this. And, I love writing them. So, even though it might be too much angst to take all at once, please continue supporting my story. I promise there will be some more romance to come. I pinky swear!**_

 _ **Anyway, enjoy where I left you hanging xx**_

* * *

He awkwardly fell onto the couch, tripping over his own feet and Padme tried to steady him unsuccessfully. Her heart reached out to him. Watching him like this was awful, physically painful. Now that they were in the light of the living room, she could see wet tracks down his cheeks, indicating that he had been crying. The bottle in his hand turned out to be rum, half-finished. She wondered whether he had been drinking it straight from the bottle. If so, it was no wonder he looked so terrible. Any other time she would have yelled at him for being so reckless, for being so careless and resorting to old habits, but she knew he was hurting. It would have to wait until he was sober. Very gently, she pried the bottle from his fingers, earning a grumble in protest, but Anakin was in too bad a state to do anything to stop her.

She came back moments later, glass of water in hand, and gave it to him, steadying his clumsy fingers with her own and guiding it towards his mouth. He drank generously and when she pulled away, his lips glistened with moisture. Even when drunk and messed up, and the heavy scent of alcohol was overwhelming, he was still undeniably beautiful. She sat beside him, smoothing hair out of his face, taking his hand in hers.

"Ani… what's wrong?" she asked, carefully, gently probing him, not wanting him to get too upset. She hadn't dealt with drunk Anakin before, she needed to be cautious.

It was then he trained his eyes on her, those eyes that she loved so much, red and moist and puffy. "M-my… she – she's... they found a… and I c-can't." He was slurring, stuttering, he made absolutely no sense. Frustrated with himself, he drew his knees up on the couch and rested his forehead against them. A sob wracked through him, entire body shaking and Padme didn't know what to do. She had no idea how to help him, so she simply rubbed his back, attempting to soothe his anguish.

"Anakin, you need to tell me what's wrong," she said softly. "Please. Let me help you."

"Can't," he muttered. "Can't help, Padme… she…" his voice broke as he tried, and failed, to get the words out and it was horrible to watch. "They found a l-lump. It's… it's c-cancer… " he broke down again, sobbing into his knees and Padme felt tears trickle down her own cheeks. Cancer. Anakin's mother had cancer, and she had only just gotten married. The news was so heart-wrenching that Padme pressed herself against Anakin's back, wrapping his arms around his waist, trying to absorb some of his sorrow. He trembled beneath her chest in uneven, shallow breaths and she simply held him, not knowing what else she could do to ease his pain.

 _Poor Shmi_ , she thought. That woman had been through so much, and just when she had found happiness, she was hit with this bombshell. And Anakin wasn't taking the news very well. She wondered when he had found out. How long had he been like this? Why was he _here_ , when he could have gone to Obi-wan?

"Oh, _Ani,_ I'm… I'm so, _so_ sorry." It was all she could say.

He lifted his head, blinking at her with teary eyes, droplets clinging to his long eyelashes, full of such sorrow that it hurt to look at them. "Padme, I – " He pressed himself against her, crushing her body to him, burying his face into the crook of her neck. The new position mean that she was almost sitting in his lap, legs crossed on the couch, and his were too, and their bodies were awkwardly pressed together, but she didn't care because all that mattered was Anakin.

"It h-hurts," he whispered against her skin, and the sound was so heartbreaking that Padme whimpered. His hands were sliding up and down her sides, over the thin material of her pyjama shirt, and even though she shouldn't feel that way, not _now_ of all times, it felt far too good. His nose was moving, sliding up her neck, along the length of her jaw and she trembled with ill-timed arousal. " _Please_ ," he begged – for what? – and his lips were wet against the underside of her jaw, causing her body to heat up. "Help me, Padme _."_ Lips brushed lightly against hers, and she knew she should push him away, because this was not right, it was _so_ not right, but she couldn't help it. Her common sense was failing her with every second.

"I _need_ you." Those words, soft and desperate, were all it took for Padme's resolve to crumble. Suddenly, his hot lips were against hers and he was kissing her, and it was nothing like before. This was aggressive, full of emotion and anger and despair, and he poured his soul into her, and suddenly she was kissing him back, swallowing his grief, taking all he gave to her. It was passionate and consuming and she was dizzy with it. His lips were rough, tongue demanding in her mouth, he tasted of rum and his fingers dug uncomfortably into her hip bones, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to help him.

 _This is so wrong._ She knew she shouldn't be doing this. Especially not now, not when he was in such a drunken, emotional state. This was not how it was supposed to be. But he needed her. He needed this. And Padme loved him. Who was she to deny him this outlet?

His tears mixed with hers against each other's faces as he pushed her backwards, hovering over her. Somehow, in the heat of it, her shirt had ridden up, and the skin to skin contact was like fire, his fingers _burning_ into her flesh. All she could do was cling to him and absorb his emotion. Suddenly, his fingers were reaching for her shorts, and all of her common sense returned like a brick to the skull. She froze, pulled back from his mouth and squirmed away from him, not getting very far, but enough so that she could breathe.

"No, Anakin," she told him, firmly. He looked shocked, confused, but also incredibly sad. "Not like this." Did that mean there was going to be another time, when he wasn't drunk and grieving? She decided to leave that question for later. Right now, the main focus was Anakin.

"I love you," he told her, simply, bluntly, as though that would fix everything. If he had said them at any other moment, Padme might had giggled with giddy laughter. She only felt sick. "I… I need you."

"Ani…" it was her turn to cry. This was so messed up. Everything about this situation was wrong. How could she possibly be aroused at a time like this? She cursed her own body for betraying her, for reacting so to his advances. "You're mother… you're in pain. You're _drunk._ This," she gestured between them, "can't happen. It's _wrong_."

Her words cut him deep, and his entire face fell, and he looked so vulnerable in that moment that she almost wanted to take back her words. Almost. But she didn't. _She_ needed to be the stronger one, the one in control.

Eventually, he seemed to realise he had made a mistake, and he nodded solemnly. "I – I'm so – "

"Shhhh," Padme pressed a finger against his lips and pulled him against her chest, stroking his hair. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." Her voice and hands calmed him down, and soon his breathing evened out. She gazed down at him moments later to find him asleep; his expression so relaxed and innocent and childlike, free from the grief and agony of his waking life. She watched him tenderly, admiring the sharp cheekbones, the plump, kiss-swollen lips, the way his nostrils flared as he snored softly. She continued to stroke his hair, finding the action calming in its own right.

Padme didn't realise she had fallen asleep until she tried to roll over, only to be trapped under Anakin's weight. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked down at him. He was unconscious, eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lips, deeply asleep. Her neck and lower back ached from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. Groaning, she awkwardly slipped out from underneath him and found a cushion to lay under his head, taking the place of her. He didn't move. Smiling sweetly at him, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and then went upstairs to her room.

She felt dirty, guilty, disgusting. He had been grieving, unstable, emotional, and she had let him kiss her, use her body for his own healing. She shouldn't have let him do that. She should have stopped him. Yet, she had done nothing. If anything, she had encouraged it, wanted it, even _needed_ it. It was seriously messed up. Padme was usually a stable person, how could she have let herself lose control like that? Give in to him like that? It repulsed her.

It was the early hours of the morning before she eventually fell asleep. Her dreams were vivid, confronting, dreams of Anakin. All she wanted was for him to be happy. But at what cost? Would she let him do that again? It certainly wasn't an easy situation to be in. Anakin was not an easy person to fall in love with. Did she regret it? No, of course not. He was simply a victim of unfortunate circumstances. That was all.

The morning came and Padme went downstairs, to see Anakin still passed out on the couch, long limbs sprawled out adorably. Her mother gave her a questioning look when she came downstairs, to which Padme replied, "He needed a… friend." If Jobal understood what was going on, she didn't say anything, and simply made breakfast and got ready for work.

Anakin showed signs of life at about nine-thirty, groaning as he lifted his head. He searched for Padme, and found her sitting opposite him, one leg drawn up, with a cup of tea resting in her hands.

"Morning," she greeted him, meekly, for she didn't know how much of last night he would remember and didn't want to make him more upset. He blinked at her, obviously confused, and pushed himself into a sitting position, immediately groaning and rubbing his temples with a scowl. "How are you feeling?" Despite everything, she still needed to know that he was okay.

"Shit," he replied honestly. "What happened? Why am I - ?"

 _He doesn't remember._ Padme felt partially relieved. She didn't feel like explaining to him what had transpired between the two of them. He would probably beat himself up about it, let the guilt eat him up, and he was already consumed with enough guilt as it was.

"You… uh – you were drunk and... came here."

His face turned red with embarrassment. "Fuck, you saw me _drunk?_ Shit… I'm sorry, Padme," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry you had to see me like… well, _that._ " Then, as an afterthought, he grimaced, "how bad was it?"

"Pretty bad," she admitted, seeing no point in lying to him. "You were crying and you… well, you kissed me and – "

" _Fuck,_ " he swore again, eyes wide in horror. "I'm so sorry, Padme. Honestly. I… I've not done that for, well, _years._ Swear to god. If I hurt you or, shit, I'm so _fucking_ sorry." He looked mortified, and Padme gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"It's alright, Ani. You were upset," she told him. "But you really shouldn't rely on drinking to help you get over grief. It's not healthy, Anakin. I thought you were on the right track now?"

"I am," he insisted, reaching over and taking her hand in his. "Honestly, I am. It was… a one off thing. I promise."

She frowned. "How do you know that? How do you know that, Anakin? What are you going to do the next time something happens? Are you going to resort back to drinking? Or… or _drugs_ or – "

" – No!" he shook his head violently, pleading, eyes full of promise and honesty. "I wouldn't – never! I promised Obi-wan, _Ahsoka_ …"

"Anakin," Padme sighed. "If you keep letting your emotions get the better of you like this, you could end up getting hurt."

He pulled his hand from hers, rubbing his forehead uncomfortably. She sensed his anguish, his embarrassment, his guilt at letting himself get so out of control. "I… I know. It won't happen again, Padme. I promise."

She stood up and sat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "Is she coming home?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Apparently, she sent her blood tests away several weeks ago. The results came yesterday." The defeat and sadness in his voice was awful and she squeezed his leg affectionately.

"Don't give up hope, Ani," she told him. "There are… treatments, people have been known to be cured," she tried for optimistic, for his sake, anything to raise his spirits.

"Yeah."

He didn't say anything else, and she didn't push him. Padme knew he needed time, time to process, time to deal with the heaviness of the situation. But she also needed to talk to him. There was so much to be said, so much that needed to be sorted out between them. It wasn't the right time, she knew that, but when was there going to be a right time?

"Anakin. We – we need to talk."

He looked at her then, understanding swimming in his eyes. "Yeah."

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, only for a moment, but enough to ease her mind. How was she going to proceed with this? Anakin was in such a vulnerable state already. She didn't want to make it worse, make him more upset. But there was so much she needed to say. Holding it in, prolonging the inevitable was not going to fix anything, it would only cease to make it more painful. Swallowing, she bravely continued.

"This – Us…" she gestured towards them. "It can't happen."

He blinked, obviously confused, his brow knitting together as he regarded her. "Wait, what?"

"We can't, Anakin. It, it's just not possible."

She expected him to protest, to be angry, but all he did was laugh, a bewildered sort of laugh. It was not the reaction she wanted. "What do you mean it's not possible? Padme, _anything's_ possible."

"No," she implored, trying to make him see reason. "We _can't_ Ani, we… we are two different people. We're going in different directions."

"So?" He still wasn't understanding. Or else he was being annoyingly ignorant. Either way, Padme's patience was running thin.

" _So?"_ she cried, incredulous. "Anakin, I'm going back to Harvard in a few weeks. And you? You have… everything ahead of you. Who knows where your life will lead. It… it just won't work, regardless of how we feel about each other."

He perked up at that, a small smile on his face, eyes lighting up at her words. "So you _do_ have feelings for me." He looked so happy, so triumphant and relieved that it hurt to do this to him.

"Ani…"

He reached over, taking her hand, and stared deep into her eyes. "I don't care, Padme," he told her. "I'll go with you. I'm a good mechanic, I'll find a job somewhere. We won't have to be apart then. It'll all work out." Hope filled his voice and he was smiling so sweetly, and it struck a nerve. She knew he would say something like this. Anakin was not exactly known for his foresight. He was impulsive and irrational and spontaneous, and it was one of the things she loved so much about him, for it was so different to her own reserved nature. But what he was suggesting was too much, she could not ask that of him. It wasn't fair. He had worked so hard to get his life back together. He'd sent applications off to several universities, he had a chance, a chance to change his life and achieve his goals. Who was she to take that from him?

"I can't ask that of you, Anakin," she told him sadly. "I can't ask you to throw away your life for me."

He didn't budge. "You're asking me to be rational. Me? You know I can't do that."

Frowning, Padme pulled her hands away and stood up. She needed to be strong. "I'm not giving into this, Anakin. I've made up my mind. It'll only hurt us."

"So, that's it. You're just gonna act like there's nothing between us, then?" He stood up too, and she couldn't help but notice the incredible height difference between the two of them. He towered over her, arms crossed, one eyebrow cocked, jaw set into a grim frown. She stared right back at him, determined to remain focused, even though all she wanted was to pull him down to her and press her mouth against his.

"Padme, I – I lov – "

" – _Don't_ say it!" she warned, taking a step back. She couldn't hear those words, not now. It would break her.

He faltered, hurt and unsure and Padme hated doing that to him. She felt awful. After several moments of silence, Anakin turned away from her, trailing his fingers along the back of the couch, biting his lip. Padme watched him sadly; he had no idea how painful this was for her.

"We could… we could make it work," he suggested. "I mean, we could make it work, long-distance, couldn't we?" There was that sliver of hope again, the silver lining that he clung to so desperately, not wanting to let go of her. It broke her heart.

"My parents tried that," she told him. "Look what happened to them." It had destroyed their relationship.

He shook his head. "It's not the same, Padme. We – we wouldn't be like that."

His determination to find a solution was endearing, and it caused deep surges of affection to course through her veins. Tears pooled in her eyes but she forced them back. Now was not the time to lose control.

"Wouldn't we?" she asked him, voice breaking in emotion. "Could you live like that? Could you live like that, Anakin? Not seeing each other for weeks, _months_ , only to spend a day or two together? Could you _do_ that? I – I don't think I could, Ani. I couldn't live like that."

He paused, taking in the gravity of her words, what it would cost. Anakin was impulsive. He tackled the world in blind curiosity, without any regard or knowledge of the consequences. As he absorbed her concerns, it seemed to dawn on him what it would actually mean, to be in a long distance relationship. The pain of the distance, the agony of being apart, only to have a few precious hours together. It would break them. It would destroy them.

"No," he reluctantly admitted. "I couldn't." The defeat was evident in his blue eyes, clouded by darkness and hurt and pain. Padme's mirrored his, her tears stubbornly resisting her efforts and falling silently down her cheeks.

He made to leave and Padme reached out to him, enough to clutch at his fingers. "Ani…" she called to him, softly. "I still… care. About you. I – I lo – " she couldn't get the words out as a sob coughed through her body. He met her teary eyed gaze with such a look of sadness that made her want to pull him into her arms and tell him everything was going to be alright. But she didn't.

"I know," he told her.

As she watched his retreating form, she sobbed, letting the tears fall freely, as her heart broke into a million pieces inside her. _Ani, I love you._ But sometimes, love wasn't always enough.


	15. Chapter 14

_**A/N: Over 300 reviews. Holy sh*t! Is this the real life?**_

 _ **Yes, so I know this is a tonne of angst, but I'm glad you guys are making the connections between Episode II and this story. That's what I'm going for :) We never really knew what Padme's thought process was when Anakin told her (in a super cheesy way, like, seriously George! No one speaks like that!) how he felt about her. I'm hoping to give some insight into that.**_

 _ **This chapter has no Anakin, but there's Ahsoka, so I think that makes up for it. Also, Ahsoka is a bit rough around the edges and yes, she swears and gets angry and emotional, but remember, she had Anakin as a role model, and he's not perfect. I love her though, I hope you love her too. Someone needs to yell at Padme for being an idiot :)**_

 _ **As always, I hope you enjoy this emotional rollercoaster xx**_

 _ **Side note: I'm trying to think of a name for my sequel. I'd like it to have the same ring... kind like The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy (although my story is far less awesome and should not even be compared to such beautiful literature). If you guys have any suggestions, let me know :)**_

 _ **Extra side note: 'Take Me Down' by Troye Sivan is absolutely perfect for these two tragic lovebirds :) As you can tell, I like my fellow Aussie artists.**_

* * *

They saw each other less regularly, both deciding that the less they saw of each other, the easier it would be when they eventually parted ways. As noble and logical that decision was, it didn't make it hurt any less. She had never felt worse. Ever. And she had brought it all upon herself. If she hadn't been so miserable, she might have laughed at the irony. Instead, she lost her appetite, couldn't sleep. All it did was prove to Padme that she could not handle a long distance relationship. She tried to keep herself busy, but there was only so much Netflix she could watch without Anakin's company before she started missing him.

Of course, Anakin had been spending most of his time with his mother once she had returned from her short-lived honeymoon in Hawaii. Her new husband, Cliegg Lars, had been frantically researching treatments and visiting doctors and hospitals, while Anakin remained by her side. Padme had visited a few days after she had come back, bringing flowers and chocolates and offering her sincerest sympathies. It was the least she could do.

On the Friday, Anakin told her he was flying out to Chicago. The Dean of the University of Chicago wanted to see him in person, about his application, which was an amazing honour. Meeting with the Dean was promising, he could be offered a position. Padme was extremely proud of him, and he seemed fairly chuffed with himself as well. He would be gone for the whole of the weekend, which just happened to fall on his birthday, and got Padme thinking. Just because she knew there could be no relationship between them, Padme was still in love with him, and she wanted to surprise him when he returned.

The only person who knew Anakin well enough to help her think of something was Ahsoka. And so, the following day, she had decided to seek her out and ask for her help.

From what Anakin had told her, Obi-wan and Ahsoka lived only a few blocks from the workshop. When Padme knocked on the door, it was Satine who answered, looking radiant in a pair of loose, linen pants, a pale blue tank and sandals, her cropped blond hair brushing her shoulders elegantly. She smiled at Padme, the corners of her pale blue eyes crinkling a little.

"Padme, lovely to see you again, dear," she greeted her, kindly. "What brings you here?"

"I'm looking for Ahsoka, actually."

Satine gestured upstairs. "She's in her room. Do you want me to go and get her?"

"No, it's alright. I'll go to her."

She'd never been inside Obi-wan's house before, but it did not surprise her that it was impeccably clean. However, that cleanliness seemed to have skipped over Ahsoka. Her bedroom was easy to pick out; the door was painted in bright, contrasting colours, and there were various hopeful slogans and several photographs pinned to the front of it; Padme could pick out the girl Barriss amongst several other teens whom she figured were Ahsoka's friends.

Padme knocked on the door. Loud music echoed from within, music that was far too young for Padme to recognise. "Satine, I told you. I can do my homework _and_ listen to music at the same time!" she called over the music.

Laughing, Padme pushed open the door. "I'm sure you can." Ahsoka was lying on her stomach on her bed, legs kicking up and down lazily, head resting on her chin. A book was laid out in front of her, and a pen was stuck between her teeth, but from what Padme could gather, she hadn't been doing much work.

The girl looked up at her voice, eyes narrowed into a bitter frown. "Oh, it's you." She spat the words out, rather venomously, and it shocked Padme a little. "What do you want?"

The sudden bluntness in her attitude towards her puzzled Padme. They had been on fairly decent terms the last time they had spoken to each other. _Don't you dare hurt him, Padme._ The last words she had said to her. Of course. It was about Anakin. Everything in Padme's life, every twist and turn, came back to Anakin.

She sighed, unsure of how to proceed. "I need your help," she began, trying to be as sweet as possible. "It's for Anakin."

Ahsoka's frown only deepened; the aggressive nature looked so out of place set amongst her young features. "So, you suddenly care about him now?"

Padme didn't have the patience to deal with an angry fourteen year old girl. "Ahsoka, you have no idea – "

"I _told_ you not to hurt him!" she snapped, her large, blue eyes flashing dangerously. "I told you!" Her twin braids whipped around her head as she glared at Padme, almost like weapons.

"Ahsoka," Padme tried to calm her, reason with her. "It's not that simple."

Her words only enraged the girl further. Her blue eyes were so wide and round, they looked almost out of place amongst her otherwise delicate features. She was pointing a finger accusingly at Padme, expression wild and fierce and it still reminded Padme of Anakin. Honestly, the two of them were so alike it was uncanny. "You _promised_ me you wouldn't hurt him!"

Padme sighed and put her head in her hands. Anakin must have been taking her rejection hard then, not that she had expected anything less from him because he was just an emotional creature and he has poured his heart out to her and she had thrown it in his face. She remembered that adorable little laugh of his when they had pressed their foreheads together, drinking in each other, absorbing the outpouring of love from their first kiss. The sound had been so pure, so unforced, so _beautiful_ and it pained Padme to think about it. Think about how happy they could have been together. She remembered the passion that had fuelled him the second time, how he had gone to _her_ for solace, sought comfort from her, and she had ruined him.

"I know," she muttered in defeat, pressing her palms harder into her eyes to stop herself from seeing _him._ "I know."

"Why, Padme?" Ahsoka asked, almost hissing the words. "I saw you two… you looked so… _happy_."

Swallowing loudly, Padme met the girl's stern gaze, her eyes filling with tears at the thought of Anakin, of his pain. His anguish. _She_ had caused that. It was _her_ fault. That hurt more than anything. _Oh, Ani._ _I'm sorry._ "It's… complicated."

"What's complicated? You love him, don't you?"

"Yes, I love him," Padme snapped, harsher than she intended, but she was sick of being blamed for things by this little girl, who knew nothing about love, or life, or duty or being an adult. Padme was _not_ going to be bullied by a naïve teenager about things she didn't understand. "It's not that simple, Ahsoka."

"Why? Why can't it be simple?" She was getting hysterical, arms flapping wildly as she tried to see the logic of the situation. Her young mind clearly wasn't knowledgeable enough to grasp the complexities of love. How messy it could be. "When people love each other, they stay together. How complicated can it be?"

Padme laughed darkly at her words. "You are fourteen, Ahsoka. You have no idea what it's like." It was almost cute, how simplistic her view on love was. If Padme wasn't so shocked or overemotional, she might have smiled, but she was extremely prickly and did not have the patience. "We have lives to live. I-I'm going back to Harvard. Ani's… well, he could be doing anything. Our lives are so different. It won't work. It will never work."

Ahsoka pouted stubbornly, her thick eyebrows coming together above her narrowed eyes. "I think you're just giving up," she told her, matter-of-factly, and if she wasn't a fourteen year old girl who had Anakin's best intentions at heart, Padme might have told her to _back the fuck off_. But she didn't. Padme was an adult, and she composed herself.

"Ahsoka…" she sighed, trying to keep herself under control and attack this diplomatically. "I-I'm not giving up… I'm doing what's best for us… for Anakin… " she faltered, her voice thickening with emotion, the grief that had been building up inside her for three days, threatening to boil over.

"Right," she drawled sarcastically. "I'm sure you were thinking about Anakin when you _tore his fucking heart out._ "

That was it. Padme's patience was gone. Who was Ahsoka to question Padme's decision? Teenager or not, she needed to be put in her place. "You think this was _easy_ for me?" she cried. "You think I _wanted_ to do this? I – this… it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do and you have _no_ idea what it's like!" Tears of frustration and anger were threatening to spill from her eyes, and she closed them, breathing deeply, trying to regain her composure. Anakin was definitely rubbing off on her. Never had she lost control of her emotions like that before, especially not at a young girl.

"How do you think he'd handle it, Ahsoka, if we struck up a relationship, and then I just left? Hmmm? How do you think he'd cope?"

The girl paused for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip. Padme could sense that she had never considered this before. "He… it would kill him," she admitted, softly, frowning down at her bed. Padme nodded, smiling sadly and sat down next to her, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I'm… sorry," she apologised, looking up at Padme with wide eyes. "I didn't – I just. He was so _sad_ , and I – "

Padme reached out and placed a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. "You care about him," she finished for her.

She nodded, biting her lip, blinking up at Padme with guilt. "I shouldn't have gotten mad at you, but you should have _seen_ him Padme! He.. I've never seen him look so... broken. It _hurt_."

She could imagine. _Oh, Ani._

"Anakin only loves a few people, Padme," she told her, voice very quiet. "Obi-wan, me, his mother and… you. And, when he loves people he, well – he finds it difficult to let go. He's very… protective."

"I know." She smiled fondly. Anakin was unlike anyone she had ever known. He loved with every fibre of his being, with every inch of his beautifully complex soul. She had felt that love, been smothered by its addictive embrace, and it had been the most wonderful thing she'd ever experienced, like she was free falling without any fear of hitting the ground. Letting that go, giving that up… Her attachment to him had grown unhealthy. She had a feeling it would take her a long time to get over it, longer than her heartbreak from Clovis. Far, far longer. Maybe even an eternity.

"What is it like, Padme?" Ahsoka asked meekly. "Being in love. What's it like?"

The question took her by surprise. Love. It was a complicated thing. Sweet. Intoxicating. Drugging. All consuming. Painful. Exhilarating. It was a difficult thing to explain. Padme hadn't even known what it was at first. One day, it had just hit her that she was in love with Anakin, and suddenly, he was her oxygen, her very life force, everything she lived for, as though she couldn't possibly live without him, as though everything she had experienced up until reuniting with Anakin had meant nothing.

"It's the single most wonderful thing that can happen to you," she simplified. "That person becomes your sole focus. All you want is for them to be happy."

Ahsoka nodded solemnly, looking back at the bed. "I think I understand," she said after a while. It was then Padme realised, Ahsoka was in love with Anakin. Maybe not romantically, but their bond was something so unshakeable, so powerful. It suddenly made so much sense; why Ahsoka was so protective of him, why she had gotten so mad at Padme. She loved him.

Suddenly, she began to cry, subtly, but Padme could tell, for her shoulders were shaking and she was sniffing and there were small droplets on her cheeks. Her heart reached out to this girl and she stroked her hair gently.

"Ahsoka? What's wrong?"

She jerked away from Padme's touch. "Nothing." No matter how adamant she was, Padme knew she was upset about something.

"It's alright, Ahsoka. You can tell me."

She turned to face her, bottom lip trembling, eyes moist and swimming. She looked so vulnerable and _young_ , even though she had a perchance for acting a lot older than fourteen. "I… Anakin's going to leave, isn't he?" She sniffed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. The action was endearing and so sad. "He's gonna have this new, awesome life, go to university and he's… he's gonna leave me."

"Oh, _Ahsoka_ ," Padme pulled the girl into her arms and hugged her fiercely. The poor thing; she was just as fragile as Anakin. The two of them were so similar that it was adorable. "He's not going anywhere, yet." She stroked her hair, and that maternal feeling she had felt around her nieces returned. Despite what she said, Ahsoka needed this, needed her and at this moment, Padme was going to be there for her, comfort her, assure her that everything was going to be okay.

"But he will, won't he?" she whimpered. "He'll get into this university and he'll move and… he'll make all these new friends and he'll – he'll forget. About me."

"No, he won't," Padme assured her. "He couldn't forget about _you_ , Ahsoka. You're his family." The girl trembled in her arms, sniffing loudly. "And he'll come back," she promised. "There's Christmas, and summer break and – "

"But _you_ left," she pointed out. " _You_ left for ten years."

It was true. She had left and hadn't come back home.

"Ani isn't like me," Padme reassured her. It seemed to be the right thing to say, for Ahsoka stopped crying, and simply held onto Padme's waist. She could feel her tears drying against her t-shirt, but didn't pull away or say anything. Ahsoka needed this.

The two sat in silence for a while. A quiet resolution existed between them, a deeper understanding and Padme knew that they would be alright now. She was actually glad that Anakin had Ahsoka. She kept him grounded. When they finally pulled apart, she beamed at her, blue eyes wide, smile even wider and laughed a little, her nose crinkling adorably, and Padme smiled back at her, glad to see that she was feeling better.

"I can see why he loves you," she said. "You're… nice." Padme laughed. That was probably the best compliment to expect from Ahsoka. God, she and Anakin were exactly the same. "So, what did you want my help with?"

"Well, it's Ani's birthday. I was thinking of surprising him when he gets back, and, well, I thought you'd be the best person to go to."

Ahsoka grinned deviously. "Well, Padme, I'm glad to see you don't _always_ make terrible decisions."


	16. Chapter 15

_**A/N: As you've probably guessed, I love writing Anakin and Padme dialogue. So, yes, there's a lot of dialogue in this one. I love the sexual tension, the playful banter, and then the super serious conversations. I love it all!**_

 _ **Padme is at that tipping point - she's second guessing her decision to not pursue a relationship with Anakin. I hope I did this justice. Also, Ahsoka is a cheeky little menace and I love her.**_

 _ **Enjoy my lovelies xx**_

* * *

"Ahsoka!"

The girl rolled her eyes, but flicked the lights off and scurried back behind the couch next to Padme. "God, this is so _lame,_ " she muttered and Padme shushed her. Anakin would be home any second, and the last thing Padme wanted was for Ahsoka to ruin the surprise. Of course, even Padme had to admit, it was a little lame, but she was determined to go through with it all the same. In order to rectify it's ' _lameness_ ', Ahsoka had found every single embarrassing photo of Anakin from when he was a baby and posted them all around the house, decorating the pillows, the table legs, the ceiling, vases and other various table ornaments so that _no_ surface was safe. He was naked in most of them, which Ahsoka found especially hilarious, but Padme thought it was cute; he'd definitely been an adorable kid; chubby, white blond hair, large blue eyes, enthusiastic grin.

When she'd told Shmi and Obi-wan, they'd immediately joined in and had spent most of the day helping Padme decorate. It had taken longer than she'd anticipated, but it had been fun all the same. It had felt _right_ , doing something like this together, almost like they were a family. Even though Padme had her own family, she felt privileged to be a part of something so unique and special. It made her realise what she was actually throwing away; not just Anakin, but everything else that came with him. That sense of family, the bond she felt slowly growing between her and Ahsoka, the respect she felt for Obi-wan, the care she felt for Shmi. She had spent so much time around them lately that it had almost become natural. _Will they miss me when I'm gone?_

It hadn't been the first time she'd thought about this; about the _what ifs_ of her and Anakin. Lately, her dreams had been filled with visions; Christmases spent together, family holidays, even – and she didn't like dwelling on this part – marriage, being accepted into a part of Anakin's family, raising their own, growing old together. The images were confronting, a harsh reality check of the things she would miss out on by leaving Anakin behind. Never had she thought such things before; marriage, family. All she had focused on was her career, getting into Harvard, making something of herself. Her sister had wanted the family life, becoming a mother at a young age. Padme had never wanted that. But now…

Anakin had unearthed this new side to her; a side willing to explore things such as having a life with someone, a side she didn't know existed. Perhaps she'd never thought about it before because she'd never been in love like this. With Clovis, nothing had been guaranteed, they'd never specifically talked long term. Their relationship just… existed. Now, Padme could clearly picture her life with Anakin and it was a distressing thought. For the first time, Padme was questioning what is was she _truly_ wanted out of life, what she wanted to live for. It frightened her.

Anakin stumbled through the door, his bag over his shoulders, fumbling for the light switch, swearing as he dropped his bag on his foot. As light flooded the room, Padme and Ahsoka leapt out from behind the couch, Shmi, Obi-wan, Cliegg Lars and Satine following behind.

"Happy Birthday!" they chorused and Anakin grinned, shaking his head at them as Ahsoka ran to him and threw her arms around his waist.

"Wow, how old am I? Twelve?" he laughed, ruffling Ahsoka's hair affectionately, before embracing his mother and Obi-wan in return. It was then his eyes fell on Padme, and even though they were supposed to stay away from each other, the sheer joy that resonated from him drew her in like honey, his eyes catching the light as he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. God, he was beautiful.

"Actually, you're ancient," Ahsoka quipped, pouting at him with all the sass she could muster, one hand on her hip. "I don't think I can hang out with you anymore, 'cause you're so _old_. It's _embarrassing._ "

He grinned at her. "Right. So it was embarrassing when I snuck you and Riyo into that…" he stopped as Ahsoka hit him, glancing sheepishly at Obi-wan, who rolled his eyes at him, sighing. Padme suspected Anakin had taken Ahsoka to a lot of places not suitable for a fourteen year old girl, and Obi-wan had been left to clean up the mess.

"You'll still get wrinkles before me," she retorted.

Anakin merely chuckled heartily, full of light. "True. But at least I'm not a midget."

She hit him again. "I'm not a midget," she protested aggressively. "I'm taller than Padme!"

"That's not hard." He flicked his eyes back to Padme, winking playfully, and she couldn't help but smirk back at him, cocking an eyebrow.

"Watch yourself, Anakin," she challenged, completely light-hearted, her composure faltering as his wide smile warmed her entire body, and it was so contagious that she couldn't help grinning back at him. It was hopeless to fight the effect he had on her. She had succumbed to his charm long ago.

She stepped towards him and he embraced her, awkward at first, but their forms soon softened against each other with such an ease and familiarity that it sent a pang of agony through Padme's heart. It felt so _right_ to be in his arms, their bodies fit perfectly together, her head tucked under his chin, his arms wrapped protectively around her. She could hear his heart, a steady, calm rhythm and it called to her own. They could have stayed like that forever, but Padme eventually pulled away, and the reluctance was evident in Anakin's eyes.

To placate him, she smirked, "welcome to the 'no-longer-a-teenager' club."

"So, I was a teenager to you this whole time, was I?" His eyes darkened suggestively and she swallowed under the intensity of it. Padme thought she could handle it when he looked at her like that, flirted unabashedly, all dark and sexy, but it was a lie. She'd probably never be able to handle the effect Anakin had on her, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. She was in love with him.

"N-no."

He seemed pleased with her answer, chest swelling a little with triumph, eyes glinting knowingly. The air between them sizzled with heat, and Padme was sure that everyone could feel it. Thankfully, Obi-wan interceded, quipping, "Maybe now, you'll actually be able to grow a beard, Anakin." He stroked his own, perfectly sculptured beard for emphasis.

"Is that a challenge, Obi-wan?"

"We both know you're not up to that challenge," the older man smirked. "It's taken _years_ to perfect this."

Anakin grinned and Padme watched the interaction with mild amusement. The banter between Obi-wan and Anakin was endearing.

He continued further inside, before he noticed all the photos that Ahsoka has plastered everywhere, and his casual grin immediately hardened in a frown. " _Ahsoka_ …" he began, crossing his arms at her. "Why are there all of… _these_ , everywhere?" he removed one from the table, face turning red in embarrassment, and anger.

The girl merely blinked up at him innocently, hands behind her back. "What? It definitely wasn't me."

He huffed. " _Snips…"_

His expression got the better of her and she burst out laughing, a carefree sound that was Anakin through and through. The maniac glint in her eyes was uncanny. "Fine, it was me. But, c'mon, Skyguy," she came over and took the picture from him, grinning wildly. "You were so _cute!_ Look at that little butt!"

Padme couldn't help but laugh, and Shmi joined in, shaking her head fondly at the two of them. Anakin, however, wasn't impressed. " _Were_ cute?" he straightened up, puffing up his chest. "What's with the past tense, Snips. I'm definitely still cute."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Nah, you're all broody and adulty now. Definitely _not_ cute."

Anakin spared Padme a glance, silently asking her opinion, and she looked him up and down, admiring his lean, tall form, the grace with which he held himself, his intoxicating smile. Not cute. Definitely not cute. He was… something else entirely. So gorgeous and sexy, all arrogant and smug and all she wanted was to just kiss him. _Control yourself, Padme._

The responding wink he sent her way informed her that he knew she was checking him out and she was pleased with what she saw. The way he flirted with her, even though it was pointless because she'd told him it would never work, and he knew it too, and it was a painful reality for the both of them. He just couldn't help himself. And he definitely wasn't making it easy for her to control herself.

Shmi had organised a feast of Anakin's favourite food, as per Padme's request, and once he had put his things away, they ventured into the dining room. Wine was served and Padme helped herself to a glass, noting proudly that Anakin stuck to water. He really was making an effort.

"This… this is incredible, mom," he said, eyes widening at the sight of all the food in front of him.

Shmi shook her head. "It was all Padme's idea, Ani." He beamed at Padme and her heart constricted tightly and she felt incredibly warm.

"So, Ani," Shmi continued as she took a seat beside her new husband. "How was it, with the Dean?"

Anakin smiled, a lovely, bewildered look on his face. "Really good. Great, actually. The Dean…" he paused, turning to Obi-wan, "his name is Qui-Gon Jinn. Apparently he knows you?"

Obi-wan nodded his head, smiling wryly. "Quite well, actually," he admitted. "He was my professor at Cambridge, and we… we were good friends."

That was news to Padme. Cambridge? Obi-wan had studied at Cambridge. She didn't seem to be the only one surprised at the news, only Satine was unfazed. It was Anakin who finally address what was clearly on everyone's minds.

" _You_ went to Cambridge?" he asked, straight to the point in that bluntly honest way of his. "Then why the hell are you a mechanic?"

His utter bewilderment seemed to amuse Obi-wan, who stroked his beard and closed his eyes for a second. "When you study philosophy, Anakin, there's not many options available to you," he explained, chuckling at some internal joke that passed over Anakin's head. "I didn't fancy spending a life in a dusty room surrounded by books. I found something I was good at, moved out here, and opened my own business."

It made sense now; Obi-wan was unlike any other mechanic that Padme had met. Apart from his cleanliness, he was wise and noble and incredible calm. It was no wonder he had studied something like philosophy.

"Ani, the Dean? What did he say?" Shmi asked, gazing fondly at her son and the ease with which he got distracted.

"Right," Anakin nodded. "Well, he – he was impressed. Really impressed, actually. I had to take some sort of entrance exam or something, and well," he ran a hand through his hair, trying to be modest but Padme could see the pride oozing out of him, "I scored a 99.9, which is, like, the highest you can get. No one gets 100. Professor Jinn said that I had great potential and he – he offered me a position there. To study." When he finished, he looked up, beaming, half-smug and half-surprised and Padme felt a surge of pride.

"Oh, Ani," Shmi cried, tears in her eyes. "That's so wonderful, I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

"Yeah," Anakin nodded, looking thoroughly bewildered that something so positive had happened in his life. He was so used to things going wrong, his life had been so full of hardships, and Padme was so _happy_ for him, so happy that he got what he wanted. "He's offering me a 75% scholarship. I don't know how that works, but I think I only have to pay a quarter of the tuition."

He was showered in praise and congratulations, from everyone, but his eyes never left Padme's, and she could see the gratitude shining in them, silently thanking her for believing in him, for convincing him to give it a shot. A wave of emotion overwhelmed her and she returned his smile, trying to convey how proud she was of him, and in that moment, she had never been more in love with him.

When dinner was over, Padme brought out the cake. She had baked it herself, and was extremely proud of her accomplishment. She loved baking, but had never had much of a chance to explore her talent whilst at boarding school.

" _You_ made this?" Anakin eyed it suspiciously as she laid it before him.

She frowned. "Why, don't you trust me?" she eyed him, testing him.

He smirked, obviously enjoying teasing her. "I dunno, I mean, you _did_ spend most of your time at a boarding school, y'know, having food made for you. I'm just… wary."

"If you don't want it, I'll take it home."

He reached for her hand, then thought the better of it. "No, I want it." It wasn't flirtatious or suggestive. His face was void of a smile. It was serious and honest, almost sad. Padme sighed, knowing exactly what he meant and knowing that it would never happen. The tension between them was getting the best of her and she quickly went back to her seat, unable to function in such close proximity. He was invading her self-control, and she was struggling to fight it.

They sang _happy birthday,_ quite badly, if Padme was being honest, only Obi-wan could actually keep a tune, and helped themselves. Afterwards, they went into the living room, where Shmi began retelling stories of Anakin as a child, getting into trouble and causing mischief. Padme smirked; Anakin hadn't changed. She decided she would begin the washing up, as it was a family occasion, and she didn't want Shmi to be left with the mess.

"So, this was _your_ idea, huh?"

She turned, to see Anakin leaning against the doorframe, trademark smirk on his face, eyes flashing mischievously. "Ani, if you want to make fun of me…"

He approached her, shaking his head. "No, that's not what I want." There it was, that sincerity that always caught her off guard. She didn't know what to say to that, so she just continued washing up, trying to focus on her task instead of the enticing presence of Anakin beside her. "You're cake was… edible," he tried to lighten the atmosphere.

It worked and she shook her head. "Just edible? You had two slices!"

He shrugged casually, "Eh – I was hungry."

Rolling her eyes, she splashed the soapy water at him, causing him to grip her wrist, pulling her up so that she was almost pressed against him. She was acutely aware of his body, his face inches from hers, his lips so inviting. It frustrated her. She couldn't let herself get carried away like this, couldn't let her body react to him like this. She had to stand strong.

"Just admit it. I'm a good baker."

His eyes were dark, full of desire and lust and hunger and Padme became a puddle of need under the intensity of it, her heart racing. Oh, _oh_ , how she wanted him. But she couldn't. She'd made up her mind. _Get a grip._

"Maybe I don't want to give you that satisfaction."

Electricity sizzled between them, hot and dangerous and it took everything Padme had to pull away, despite her body's protests. "I'm proud of you, Ani," she said, changing the subject before she lost all of her self-control. "Honestly, I am. You… you deserve this." She smiled sweetly at him and he gave a small, happy laugh.

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"I'm not the one with exceptional talent, Anakin," she pointed out.

"No," he conceded, taking her hand in his, soft and gentle and full of gratitude. "But you convinced me. If you hadn't… well, I'd still be a mechanic. So… thank you, Padme," his thumb slid across her wrist gently.

She squeezed his hand affectionately. "I just want what's best for you, Ani." _I love you_. He seemed to sense the meaning of her words, of how she really, truly, cared for him. That the decision not to pursue a relationship came from the best of intentions. "When do you leave?"

"Next weekend," he replied. "They haven't given me much time to get sorted, but I suppose, I was a late applicant. You?"

"Same," she said, sadly. It suddenly dawned on her that this might be the last time they saw each other. Their paths would never cross again; they weren't in the same circles. She would go back to Harvard and he would start at the University of Chicago and that would be it. The harsh reality was too much to take, and tears filled her eyes. Ashamed, she turned away, but Anakin took her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look at him.

"Hey," he said, giving her a small smile. "It's alright."

"I-I'm going to miss you, Ani," she admitted, not bothering to hide her anguish anymore.

"I'll miss you too," he told her softly. "More than you know." She laughed at that, tears falling from her eyes. He caught one with his thumb, brushing it away tenderly and the action made her want to hold him and never let him go. She didn't want to leave him. Now, only now, was she realising that she had probably made the biggest mistake of her life. She didn't want to let him go, not yet, he was… he was everything. How could she possibly give him up? _You fool, what have you done?_

"Hey, why don't we do something special, y'know, before we go? To… to say g-goodbye," he choked out the words, trying to be strong for her sake.

She nodded, "what did you have in mind?"

He frowned, rubbing his forehead. "I dunno. We could go back to the lake? I mean, you liked it there, right? And… you still have those kayaks don't you? We could – I dunno – make a day of it, or something, if you – if you want?"

He was so sweet and adorable and Padme was so in love with him. She beamed through her tears, giving his hand another affectionate squeeze. "I'd like that, Ani."

He grinned, happy to see a smile on her face, and pulled her back towards the living room. "Come on, you're gonna _love_ this story."


	17. Chapter 16

_**A/N: If you cry while reading this I won't blame you. If you hate me after reading this, I won't blame you either. Honestly. I will understand. Because this starts off so perfect, so happy and light and lovely and you think it possibly couldn't get any better... and it doesn't. It gets worse.**_

 _ **Don't say I didn't warn you xx**_

* * *

He was late. Not that it surprised her, he had a habit for leaving things to the last minute and getting distracted, but it still annoyed her all the same. It was their last day together before she went back to Harvard, and he had to be late. Typical. But, Padme couldn't stay mad at him for long. It gave her extra time to prepare.

She wanted everything to be perfect, a wonderful little memory to keep for the rest of her life. And so, she had gone incredibly overboard. Padme wasn't one to take things lightly. She had spent all morning preparing a picnic lunch; fruit, leftover cake, sandwiches, biscuits, iced tea. It was probably too much, but she didn't care; she knew how much Anakin ate and she hated being unprepared.

Anakin came over about half-an-hour later than planned, slightly breathless, grinning sheepishly at her. "Sorry I'm late," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I overslept, and then… well, I needed a shower and, y'know…" His face was slowly turning red with embarrassment and she shook her head at him, laughing.

"It's alright, Ani," she assured him.

It was then he seemed to notice what she was wearing, his eyes surveyed her almost in awe and she suddenly grew self-conscious. She wasn't wearing anything special; a light shift dress made of a sheer, lacy fabric over the top of her purple bikini. But the way Anakin was looking at her made her flush with heat, almost as though she was standing naked in front of him. It was then she realised how the sheer fabric left very little to the imagination, and he would easily be able to see her skin, the delicate curves of her waist and hips, her legs, even her breasts. She suddenly regretted wearing something so revealing, but it was too late to change now.

"You – er…," he began awkwardly, and she could see him struggling to look away, for the sake of her dignity. Padme appreciated that immensely. "Y-you should wear your hair down more often."

Absently, she twirled a curl around her finger, beaming up at him. Anakin had this way of making her feel so beautiful with just one, simple look. "It's a lot more trouble than it looks," she told him, keeping it safe, though her heart fluttered wildly in her chest.

He laughed. "It suits you." _Oh_ , he had no idea what he did to her. He wasn't suggestive or flirtatious, he was just being honest, that honesty that took her completely by surprise every time. How she wished she could do that, just say what she was feeling without overthinking or overcomplicating or getting nervous. It was a quality she admired greatly.

Anakin had borrowed Obi-wan's truck, so that the kayaks could fit in the tray-back. They had been stored at the back of the garage, and the two of them had spent the last two days hosing them down and cleaning them out; for a spider had decided to make itself a cosy web atop the seat, must to Padme's disgust. She hated spiders. Anakin had merely laughed at her phobia, teasing her for the majority of the day, coming up behind her and ghosting his fingers along the back of her neck making her squeal and leap into the air. Such trickery had been punished by pelting him with shoes or soapy sponges, or even turning the hose on him, soaking him in freezing cold water until he surrendered.

Padme had enjoyed spending time with Anakin like that; it was relaxed and comfortable and made her realise how much she would miss his company; the sound of his laughter, his easy smile, his teasing, his banter. She had never been more at ease with one person before. Being around Anakin required little effort, it was just so _simple._ Of course, their predicament was not so simple. Everything had been building up to this day, this final moment together before they both parted ways. As much as they had tried to ignore it, to forget it, it had loomed above them like a storm cloud threatening to rain down on them.

Anakin seemed to sense her distress and gave her a brilliant, comforting smile, quelling her anxiety. "So, are we gonna head off or - ?"

She nodded quickly as a response and followed him outside. It was a sweltering day; one of those disgustingly humid days that held all the promise of an afternoon storm. Padme hoped they would be home before a storm hit. Anakin was already feeling the brunt of the heat, tan skin shining with a light layer of perspiration, sweat beading on his top lip. It only served to make him more annoyingly attractive.

The trip there was spent in silence, neither one knowing what to say, simply enjoying the company of the other. They must have been the only people who knew about this sanctuary, because it was completely deserted, though Padme was grateful for that. She didn't want anyone ruining her last day with Anakin. It was going to be perfect. The water was the clearest of blues, the colour of Anakin's eyes, still and inviting, and as soon as they pulled up, Padme ran towards it, eager to feel to coldness against her skin. A wild grin broke out on her face as she stood ankle deep in the water, head thrown back, eyes closed, arms outstretched.

The sound of Anakin's laughter interrupted her tranquillity, and she glanced back at him to see him watching her, an adorable grin on his face, arms crossed, eyes questioning. She merely beamed, "you scared getting wet?" The light caught his eyes, and the sun danced along his hair and skin bathing him in an ethereal glow. She would never get used to how lovely he was. He was simply breathtaking. Surely, he was some sort of angel, sent to test her, test her willpower, and she was failing miserably. "Well, are you going to join me or what?" she challenged.

He simply shook his head at her. "I thought _I_ was the child." And then he ran to her, gripping her tightly around the waist and tackling her to the ground and she screamed as they both plummeted into the water, rolling around each other, and he was laughing madly, eyes flashing wildly as she tried to shove him off of her, to no avail.

" _Anakin_!" she scolded him, but her breath caught in her throat when she realised he was on top of her, pinning her body underneath him, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with visions of them in this exact position; how many times had she dreamt of this? _Wanted this?_ She was ashamed to admit it. The way he was grinning down at her was too much, and even though the water was freezing, her body temperature spiked along with her arousal.

"You scared of getting wet?" he teased, voice low and rough and she shivered as he used her own words against her. And then he laughed, throwing his head back and he rolled off of her, water sloshing around him, and it was so contagious that she couldn't help but join in. She felt like a child again; wild and carefree and so _light_.

"I forgot to bring a towel," she suddenly remembered, sitting upright and glancing down at her soaked dress.

Anakin merely shrugged, pulling his tshirt over his head and tossing it up on the bank. The sight of his bare chest made her falter, and she couldn't help but admire his form. He knew exactly what he was doing as he lay back down, arms resting casually behind his head, eyes closed. _Two can play this game_ , she thought mischievously, as she stood up and removed her dress, exposing her barely covered body. When she looked back down at him, his eyes were wide open, taking her in with obvious infatuation, and she felt a sense of devious triumph. _Serves you right, Anakin Skywalker._

"Where are you going?" he asked her as she turned and walked back up the bank towards the car.

"I need to put on some sunscreen," she called back. "Not all of us are blessed with sun-kissed skin, Anakin."

As she applied the lotion, Anakin watched her with mild interest, his eyes not-so-subtly following every sweep of her hands up and down her arms, over her neck, her legs. Suddenly, he was next to her, taking the bottle from her hands and squeezing it onto his palms. Very gently, he brushed her hair away from her neck, causing goose-pimples to break out over her forearms and stepped behind her. "Let me." Suddenly, his hands were on her back and she bit her lip in order to control her emotions. For someone who was so rough with his hands, he caressed her skin with such tenderness and gentleness that it made her melt.

"T-thank you," she nodded when he was finished. "Do you… do you need some?"

He shook his head, laughing. "Nah, I'll risk it." When she scolded him about the risks of skin cancer, he simply rolled his eyes and drawled, "yes, mom," making her hit him on the shoulder.

"Now that you're all protected, are we going to go out on the water now?" His question is still teasing, yet Padme can sense the anticipation there, and she smiled as she realised this is his first time doing something like this. Anakin loved adventure, a desire he had slowly awakened inside Padme, and she thrilled at the idea that _she_ was going to teach him something new, share in this experience with him.

"Of course," she smiled. "How good of a swimmer are you?"

"Basically Michael Phelps," he replied instantly, winking at her and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Ani," she laughed. "The last thing I want is you to drown or something."

He simply grinned. "If you're asking permission to perform mouth-to-mouth, I give you my consent."

She hit him again. "You're insufferable."

They hauled the kayaks down, Anakin basically doing all the work and Padme just barking orders, and pulled them down towards the bay. He was grinning like a child, eyes wide with anticipation, and it was adorable. She showed him how to get started, and watched him fail, falling off the side and into the water unceremoniously, only to surface with the widest grin on his face and a wild look in his eyes. Ever the fast learner, he attempted again, going slower, patiently, and succeeded, looking back at her to gauge her reaction. She praised him with a smile and soon set out to join him.

"This is easy," he marvelled, all arrogant and smug.

"You seem fairly confident all of a sudden."

He raised his eyebrows at her, challenging her. "Race you to the other side."

"You're on."

She paddled frantically, cutting him off and he cursed, following close behind her. He was stronger than she was, but she was more consistent, keeping her kayak straight, whereas Anakin's was almost going in circles as he tried desperately to keep up with her. As the other side of the bank came into sight, Anakin let out a cry, and sudden Padme felt herself being pulled back forcefully. She turned to see Anakin gripping the back of her kayak, pulling her backwards. Scowling at him, she swung her oar at his head, missing and causing her capsize, tumbling into the water with a cry.

Anakin dived in after her, grinning madly, eyes flashing, and she threw a wave of water in his direction, hitting him square in the face. He spluttered, shaking his head causing it to stick up oddly and swam out to her, hands resting on her waist as she treaded water.

"Cheater!" she hissed.

"You never explained the rules," he pointed out.

She splashed him again, but he kicked away, floating lazily on his back, staring up at the sky. He looked so content and happy that she couldn't stay mad at him, and she swam up beside him, rolling onto her back. Their hands found each other in the water and it made her entire body flush with affection. She could sense his gaze on her and turned to find him staring at her, eyes searching her soul. "This is nice," he conceded and she gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

"Yeah. Sola and I used to do this all the time. But it's been… _years._ "

"I should take Ahsoka out here sometime. And Obi-wan. I reckon they'd like it." A small smile graced his face and her heart constricted tightly. She didn't want this to end – she was so happy in this moment, with Anakin, just simply _existing_ together. It felt natural, completely and utterly natural, and it pained her to have to leave this behind. Surely, something that felt this right couldn't be wrong, could it?

"How long have Obi-wan and Satine been together?" she wondered out loud.

"A long time," Anakin replied. "Ten years or something."

That was surprising. "And, they're not married or - ?"

Anakin sighed, a little sad. "No… Obi-wan – well, he doesn't believe in marriage."

That was even more shocking. How could you not believe in marriage? Padme thought the idea was so romantic, swearing yourself to someone for the rest of your life, making a vow in front of your family. It was the greatest act of love there was. When she voiced this to Anakin, he merely shrugged. "I guess it's not for everyone."

"Do you?" she asked, quiet, nervous, unsure whether this was the right time to ask this particular question, seeing as what it signified. "Believe in marriage, I mean?"

The question seemed to surprise Anakin, and he turned to her, expression puzzled. "I – I've never really thought about it, to be honest." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "have you?"

"Of course," Padme smiled, laughing a little. "All girls think about marriage, Ani."

He frowned. "I don't think Ahsoka does."

"Why would she tell _you_ , even if she did?"

Anakin seemed offended, eyebrows knitting together. "Ahsoka's… she tells me everything."

"Really?" she raised her eyebrows at him. " _Everything?_ I'm sure she hasn't told you about the boy she has a crush on."

His expression hardened into anger, and that protective 'big-brother' side of him surfaced. It was an endearing side of him, one that Padme enjoyed seeing, even if it made her laugh a little. His care for Ahsoka was a beautiful thing to behold. " _What_ boy?" he demanded. "Ahsoka's too young to have…"

"Ahoska's fourteen, Anakin," Padme reminded him. "The same age I was when I met you."

The memory seemed to soften his demeanour, even though he was still shocked at the sudden revelation. "Did you… y'know, have _crushes_ at that age… on, boys?"

"Of course," she answered. "Not that it really amounted to anything. I mean, I didn't get my first boyfriend until I was sixteen, but – "

" – what was he like?" Anakin interrupted rather suddenly and Padme was worried that he was going to get upset. Surveying him cautiously, she noted how he was simply curious, and she admired his sudden maturity.

"Y-you don't want to talk about… about this," she reasoned.

He squeezed her hand. "No, I do," he insisted, completely sincere and once again, Padme had to marvel at the way he could constantly surprise her.

Nodding, Padme smiled. "His name was Palo. We met at a school dance, between my school and the neighbouring boy's school. He was… creative, eclectic even, an aspiring artist. Definitely not someone my father would approve of," she gave a small, harsh laugh. _He wouldn't approve of Anakin either,_ a voice reminded her, but she ignored it. She had long ago stopped seeking her father's approval for how she lived her life.

"Why?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "My father has very… _specific_ ideas of who I should associate with," she muttered bitterly.

"What's that?" he asked, curious, but also a little self-conscious and she realised this was probably the _worst_ conversation to have with him. But he was persistent, and she couldn't lie to him.

"Oh, you know," she replied vaguely, "what all fathers want for their daughters. Rich, successful men, who can give them a big house and lots of fancy clothes and look after them."

Anakin suddenly grew very quiet, and stared up at the sky. She desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, though she could guess, judging by his expression. "And you – you want this, too?" he asked, and the uncertainty in her voice made her want to hug him.

"Of course not," she insisted firmly. "I don't care about any of that superficial stuff. It doesn't matter to me about financial security or status or occupation or _anything_ _like that_." The finality in her voice was enough to reassure him, and he brightened up a little at that.

They eventually swam back up to the shore, both incredibly hungry, and lay down on the grass, enjoying the pleasantness of each other's company. The longer they spent together, the more anxious Padme became, the more she began to second guess herself. All she wanted was to pause time and stay like this, with him, for eternity. It was an awful reality to face.

As if sensing her distress, the sky began to darken and clouds loomed overhead, signally the approach of that summer storm. Large, cold raindrops fell from the sky without warning, and the two of them hurried packed up their things and ran into the safety of the car as water pelted down around them, unyielding. Anakin drove them back home, neither of them speaking, the weight of the world on their shoulders. This was it. Tomorrow, Padme would be flying out to Boston. She would never see Anakin again. As she stared out the window, tears spilled down her cheeks and she sobbed quietly, refusing to let him see her anguish. All she wanted was what was best for Anakin. Doing this, being apart, it was what was best for him. But she felt so utterly terrible. It was hurting her, just as much as it was hurting him, and the truth became too much to bare.

He walked her up to her front door, hand on her back, as they hurried to get out of the rain. They stood in silence for a long time, communicating simply with their eyes, words to painful to say. She could see the pain in his eyes, it was written all over him.

"So."

"So."

He reached up and stroked her cheek, brushing her tears away tenderly, before cupping her chin and forcing her to look at him. "This is goodbye then."

Her entire body was trembling. No. No, she couldn't let him leave. She couldn't say goodbye. She loved him. She loved him more than anything, more than she could have thought possible. It was too soon, it was way too soon. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded her head weakly, unable to speak.

"Padme, I – "

She shook her head as her tears formed a river down her cheeks. She couldn't hear it. Her poor, fragile heart couldn't take it. "I know," she whispered, her voice thick and rough and breaking, and she brought her hand up to cover his on her cheek, memorising the feel of his fingers, his hot, wet skin.

Anakin opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, removing his hand from hers and turning away. She watched his retreating form, biting her lip to keep from crying out after him. Once he was out of sight, she completely broke down, slumping down against the wall, knees drawn up, heart-wrenching sobs coursing through her body as she wept, silently.

As the rain poured down around her, she could hear her heart breaking inside her chest.

 _Ani, I love you._


	18. Chapter 17

_**A/N: MATURE RATING WARNING. I felt I could only, truly do this justice as an M-rated chapter. It just feels more real and raw that way. If you don't like reading mature scenes, you've been warned.**_

 _ **This scene has been a long time coming. It was actually one of the first scenes I wrote when I was fleshing out this story. Thank you for your patience. Enjoy xx**_

 ** _Side note: 'Scars' by James Bay was what I was listening to when I was writing this._**

* * *

 **12:35am.**

Padme had been watching the seconds tick over, becoming minutes, becoming hours. It was an agonisingly slow process. At first, she had been crying too much to take any notice. But now, she had cried herself out, and lay, staring at the ceiling, body numb. Beside her bed, her suitcase was packed, ready for her flight later on that day – it was morning now, she realised with a sigh of defeat. In almost 12 hours she would be boarding her plane to Boston, leaving this small town behind, leaving her mother… leaving Anakin.

She'd spent the last three hours mulling over her decision, with the necklace Anakin had given her all those years ago turning between her fingers. She'd weighed every option. She thought of every possibility. She'd made the right decision… at least, her mind told her so. But her heart? It told her a different story.

Padme didn't care anymore. She didn't care if it ruined them, she didn't care if it only broke them. Nothing could be as painful as what she was currently feeling, that much was certain. _If it's meant to be, it will be. All you need is the will to make it happen._ Her mother's words haunted her, and made Padme realise that she couldn't simply wait around for fate to make up it's mind. Her life, her _happiness_ was in her own hands, and even if it wasn't meant to be, she couldn't spend the rest of her life wondering _what if_. It just wasn't her nature.

It was there, in the darkness of her bedroom, as the minute turned over, that Padme threw caution to the wind, and leapt out of bed, rushing out of the house. She didn't care. She _needed_ Anakin, and she'd only be lying if she thought she could live without him now. There was so much she needed to say to him, so much she needed to _tell_ him and if she didn't do it now, she knew she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

The rain was relentless as she ran to his house, soaking through her pyjamas, making her hair cling to her face, but she hardly noticed. All that mattered was seeing him - _Anakin_. She pounded on his front door, crying out his name and suddenly, he threw it open, concern and surprise written all over him. "Padme, what are you - ?" he began, blue eyes surveying her dripping wet form in front of him. She knew she looked dreadful, but she also knew that if she didn't see him, if she didn't tell him what she had been dying to tell him for _weeks_ , she might possibly perish.

" _I love you!_ " she blurted out suddenly, almost shouting it at him, and the force of it made him blink at her, face frozen in shock.

"W-what?" He was clearly troubled, trying to make sense of her words, but she didn't have time to wait around. She had been holding it in for way, way too long.

"I love you, Anakin," she repeated, more calmly than the first time, letting the weight of her proclamation sink in. He took his time, frowning at her in concentration, an adorable bewildered look crossed his handsome face and when his gaze met hers, all she saw was his affection for her. Her tears mixed with the rain streaming down her face, and her vision was blurred, but Anakin was crystal clear in her eyes. Saying it, those three little words, had lifted this enormous weight off her chest, as though she had been drowning and suddenly pulled up to the surface, oxygen filling her lungs once again, making her feel whole again.

"You – you love me?" his voice was soft, deathly quiet, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But I thought. You said that… we _can't_ feel – it would," he was clearly distressed, and she stepped closer to him, taking his hand in hers, eyes never leaving his face as his searched for an answer.

"I know what I said. But _Ani_ , I… I can't keep it in any longer," she stuttered through sobs, desperately trying to get the words out. "I can't keep denying… I'm going back to Harvard. If I – if I d-didn't tell you, I'd…" she swallowed, paused, gained composure, then bravely continued, because she had gotten this far, and she couldn't back down now. "I'd regret it. Forever." She took another step closer to him, their bodies mere inches from each other and she could clearly see his beautiful eyes glistening with love for her. "I love you, Anakin Skywalker," she told him fiercely, a hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "I'm in love with you. And before I leave, I... I need you to know."

And then he was kissing her and she melted under the feel of his lips, warm and smooth and soft, against her own. Her hands wove their way into his hair, crushing his face to hers as she pressed herself against him, wanting, _needing_ to feel his hard body against her. He responded with enthusiasm, clasping her waist so her hips were flush against his. It was the most beautiful feeling and Padme began to cry again, because she had never felt this much love for one person before and it was overwhelming. Anakin seemed to appreciate her tears, breaking away from her mouth to kiss each drop that slid down her check, his tongue licking against her skin.

They broke away after a while, heads together, chests rising and falling in sync as they gazed at each other. Nothing else mattered in the world at that moment, except for the way Anakin was looking at her. Padme had never felt more adored. More _alive_.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," he whispered softly, a gorgeous smile breaking out on his face. His fingers traced over her cheek, down the line of her jaw, over her neck, smoothing out her wet hair. She laughed a delicate, incredibly happy laugh, colour rising in her cheeks and launched herself at him again, attacking his mouth with her own, the force of it causing him to take a step backwards, hands falling on her hips again to steady her. Understanding her intent, he moved them inside, never breaking the kiss, so that her back was against the door.

His hands slid up and down her sides as his lips descended lower, placing sweet, open-mouth kisses down the slope of her neck. Padme tilted her head, giving him better access, and pawed at his back. Each touch left fire in its wake and bolts of pleasure shot right down to her core. Anakin was taking his time, being sweet and tender, savouring her, but Padme had grown tired of waiting. In that moment, all she wanted was Anakin, and she was determined to get what she wanted.

Growling low in her chest, a primal snarl of arousal, she roughly tugged up his tshirt, and he reluctantly broke away from her neck to help her pull it over his head, before tossing it to the floor. She took a moment to admire him, before he got the hint and pulled her own sopping pyjama shirt over her head where it joined his on the floor. Their hands explored each other with longing. Padme let her hands memorise the hard planes of his abdomen, how deliciously firm he was, and warm, _so warm_ compared to her own damp, cold skin. His hands were everywhere, stroking her sides, ghosting over her clavicles, smoothing along the small of her back. He traced the swell of her breasts with long, gentle fingers, but Padme could see the hunger in his eyes. He wanted her. And _god_ knew she wanted him.

Frantically, they pressed their naked chests together, revelling in the feeling of each other's skin, of this new experience. Padme's nipples chafed against his in the most delectably painful way, and she wrapped her arms around his back and hitched a leg over his hip, needed to get closer to him. He returned her desire, gripping under her thighs and hoisting her up so she could fully wrap her legs around his lean hips. Their groins were pressed together and Padme whimpered at the feeling of his growing arousal flush against her own aching sex through the thin layers of clothing between them. Her hips rolled against his instinctively, craving the friction she so _desperately_ needed and he groaned into her mouth, the sound rumbling through his chest.

Padme had never been particularly sexually driven, but Anakin had awakened this powerful sensuality inside her that was foreign and new and exhilarating and she completely opened herself up to these incredible feelings. He felt so _good_ , his large hands clutching at her waist, skin hot against hers, mouth soft and rough and gentle and possessive all at the same time. She thought she could get lost in the feel of his lips.

And then he pulled away, sudden and unexpected, and Padme stretched out her neck, chasing his lips, before snapping her eyes open. He was looking at her with such desire and blatant adoration in those expressive blue eyes of his, and she met them with a questioning stare of her own. "W-what?" she stumbled out, chest rising and falling sharply.

"Are you – Padme. Are you sure you… y'know, want this?" He searched her face, sincere and concerned and it only made her love him more, _harder,_ completely. He cared so much about her that he was willing to sacrifice his own needs for her happiness.

"Anakin," she said firmly. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

That was all he needed to hear before her captured her mouth again, more insistent than before and she whimpered under the intensity of it. " _Padme_ ," he muttered, sucking on her bottom lip, "I love you. You're…" he paused to kiss her again, " _incredible._ I never want. To stop… never want to stop kissing you." She trembled at his words, clinging to his broad shoulders as his lips ran wetly down the pale column of her neck to dust sweet kisses and nips along her clavicle.

"Then d- _don't_ ," she inhaled as he took her skin between his teeth and sucked, sort of harshly, at the crease her neck made with her shoulders. Her eyelids fluttered closed with the sheer pleasure of it. She hadn't known she'd been so sensitive there before, but Anakin was winding her up so tightly by only kissing her. A part of her thrilled at the thought of what sensations his mouth would elicit on other more _needy_ parts of her body.

" _Ani,_ " she took his hair in his hands and dragged his mouth back to hers, relishing this new demanding side of her. "I… I want – "

He hummed a response against her lips, before cupping her buttocks and lifting her up, carrying her upstairs. Padme knew he was experienced, far more than she was, but for the first time, she didn't care, because he understood exactly what she wanted, exactly what she _needed,_ without her having to articulate, because she simply couldn't. She was too far gone for him.

When they entered his bedroom, he gently laid her down on his old, single bed, and gazed over her half-naked form. She knew she looked a mess; eyes red and puffy, hair a wet matted tangle, chest flushed from arousal, but Anakin simply watched her in wonder, his mouth parted slightly, eyes wide. She could practically _feel_ his eyes sweeping over her skin, trailing down her bare chest, and she felt her nipples harden under the intensity of it.

"You're so beautiful," he told her, so honest, so raw, so in love with her that his voice practically dripped with it and she clenched her thighs together unconsciously in desire. She didn't have a chance to reply before he was on top of her, pressing delicate kisses between her breasts as one of his hands cupped the small mound, fingers pulling and plying the soft flesh and Padme's breathing hitched in pleasure. His index finger traced her areola, feather-light, and she squirmed, arching her back, silently begging him to touch her where she wanted. She was rewarded with a pinch as he took her hardened nipple between index and thumb, squeezing it quickly and she whimpered as it shot surges of arousal down to her dripping core.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at him, to see his swollen, plump lips hovering over her breast, eyes locked firmly on hers, as he dragged the flat of his tongue across her nipple. _"Oh,_ " she gasped and felt him grin against her and he did it again, before sucking on it harshly. She was not used to such attentiveness. Clovis had never been a generous lover. But here, Anakin was simply _worshiping_ her, paying attention to every single part of her, as though he couldn't get enough of her.

His mouth was now on her belly, tongue dipping into her navel, as he made his slow, torturous descent down her body towards where she knew she was dripping and wet and slick with want for him. "You sure do take your time _,_ " she breathed, trying for irritated, but coming across desperate.

He chuckled against her skin, nipping her, making her tug his hair roughly. "Impatient, aren't we?" And then, suddenly, his fingers were dipping beneath the waistband of her pyjama shorts and he slowly – honestly, he was doing everything so ridiculously slowly Padme felt as though she would explode with need – dragged them down her hips, tossing them to the floor unceremoniously. She watched his eyes darken as he noticed her obvious desire for him seeping through her underwear and she was certain he could _smell_ how wet she was. But she wasn't embarrassed. She simply looked at him, expectantly, silently asking him what he was going to do about it.

He smirked, arms trapping her waist to stop her from moving, and rested his chin on her lower belly, in between her hipbones, staring at her. The _nerve_ of Anakin Skywalker. " _Ani_ ," she growled, hands forming fists in the sheets, and he responded by taking the top of her underwear in his teeth and dragging them down, exposing her to his hungry gaze, and the picture was erotic that Padme shuddered. And then, he just left her there, a puddle of need under him, while he kissed the inside of her knee. The torture was agony; blissful, intoxicating, frustrating _agony._ "Please – please, Ani. _Just_."

"Hmmm?" he hummed, making his way up the inside of her thigh, dangerously close but still so far away. "What do you want, Padme? Tell me. Tell me what you want." His voice was dark, roughened by desire for her and she bit her lip at the sound of it. He was surely going to be the death of her. She had never wanted someone as much as she wanted Anakin.

"Just. _Touch me_ , Ani. _Please,_ " the words tumbled out like last straws, desperate and breathy and a little pathetic but Padme was too aroused to care.

"My pleasure," he growled, and then suddenly his mouth was on her, tongue dragging up her dripping sex, tasting her, and all she could do was arch her back and lift her hips, pressing herself harder against his face. Her mouth was slack, mouthing his name over and over as he lapped at her swollen clit with the pointed tip of his tongue.

"Ani, yes, _oh, Anakin,_ " she wept at the powerful surges of pleasure he was conjuring inside her. She was so close, already, and all he had to do was wrap his full lips around her tight, pointed clit and suck harshly and she fell over the edge, crying out his name, eyes rolling back, back arching gracefully, and it was the most insane, blissful pleasure she had ever felt and she never, _never_ wanted to leave this paradise.

He drank from her, coaxing her gently back to reality, and her thighs twitched around his head. He placed his hands on her belly and stroked her sides softly, whispering, "it's alright, it's alright." When she recovered from the power of her orgasm, she carded her fingers through his hair, praising him silently, for she was too overwhelmed to speak. Never had she felt pleasure like that before. It was indescribable. Craving his lips once again, she tugged his hair, dragging him back up her body.

"You really are an angel," he whispered softly. "You taste like heaven."

She growled at his words. She was so, _so_ in love with him. "Ani. Make love to me." She was firm and forceful, and somewhat aggressive, and he kissed her, hard, rough, possessive and she couldn't get enough.

"Don't move," he told her, and then he was gone and she suddenly missed the heavy weight of him pressed against her. Moments later, he returned, completely naked, condom in hand and Padme only had seconds to admire his gorgeous form before he crawled on top of her, fumbling with the packaging.

She stilled his hands, giving him a firm, confident smile, took the condom and slowly began to roll it over the length of him, marvelling how hard he was for her and watching his eyes cloud over. Giving him a quick squeeze, she widened her legs and he nestled in the cradle of her hips, never taking his eyes off her.

"I love you," he said and she thrilled at the sound of it.

Stretching her neck, she kissed him sweetly before smiling up at him. "Then love me." Nodding, he teased her, rubbing up and down her soaked folds and she struggled to keep her eyes open. " _Anakin_ ," she begged, and he didn't need asking twice. The feeling of him sheathed inside of her was like none other. He held the position, gently nudging that glorious spot deep within her, letting her grow accustomed to his size. She was grateful for that, because he was large, larger than any man she had been with before.

" _Fuck_ ," he cursed, clenching his eyes shut. "How are you so _perfect_?" he marvelled, seemingly to himself, but she nodded all the same, because she felt exactly the same way. Tired of waiting, she bucked her hips, encouraging him to move, and the drag of his cock out of her was even more delicious that she couldn't help the little gasp that escaped her.

He rocked back into her, harder, deeper, and began a steady pace, and she clung to his shoulders, holding on for her life. She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his firm buttocks, forcing him to go deeper, harder, crying out when he sucked at her neck _._ His hands stroked her sides as he drove into her, toeing the line between painful and perfect every time.

Her name fell from his lips over and over like a prayer and she encouraged him by digging her nails hard into the muscles of his back. " _Ani_ ," she hissed. "Harder." Growling, he obliged, churning his hips madly against hers and she met him thrust for thrust, drawing them both closer and closer to release.

"Close," he grunted against her skin, and she moaned in reply, pressing her forehead against his, keeping their eyes locked on each other. He bit his lip and it was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen and she fell, again, falling apart around him with a cry of his name. That was enough for Anakin, and his release followed swiftly with one last, powerful snap of his hips. Padme watched him in awe; it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and her heart surged with affection.

Spent, Anakin collapsed on top of her chest, skin hot and sticky and damp, face buried between her breasts. Padme couldn't move, and wouldn't want to even if she could. A peaceful serenity washed over her, and she stroked his hair, a silly, pleased smile on her face. Groaning, he lifted his head to meet her eyes, swimming with moisture and placed a trembling kiss to the underside of her jaw, suddenly soft and gentle and loving. He slowly rolled off of her and spooned her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and burrowing his nose into her wet, tangled hair. They lay there, simply embracing each other and the new wonderful step in their relationship. With Anakin's arms around her, Padme felt like she was finally home.

Her logical side eventually managed to surface, and tears filled her eyes as she realised there was no going back now. They were bound together, body, mind and soul, and as much as that pleased her, it frightened her. It still didn't change the fact that she was flying back to Boston later that day. Reality was cruel, and the unfairness of it all overwhelmed her.

Anakin sensed her distress and pushed up on his elbow, gazing down at her with such a look of love that turned her body to putty. "What's wrong?" he asked, stroking her cheek.

She sniffed and twined her fingers with his. "Oh, Ani," she sobbed. "What are we going to do?"

He kissed her, passionate and consuming. When he pulled back, he smiled down at her. "We're not gonna worry about anything right now," he told her. "All that matters is that we're here. Together. This moment, alright?"

She smiled through her tears and nodded. With a final kiss, he lay back down beside her and she curled into his chest, closing her eyes as he stroked her hair, listening to the steady beating of his heart. Anakin was right. All that mattered was this moment. The future could wait until sunrise.


	19. Chapter 18

**_A/N: Another M-rated chapter. I've changed the rating now, just in case. And yes, I know Padme is 24 and it seems unrealistic that she's so naïve about sex, but she never felt comfortable enough with Clovis and they rarely ever had sex (which was why he cheated on her - not that I'm giving him an excuse because he's an asshole and I hate him but yeah). She saw it as a chore, because he would just take and never gave her any pleasure. But with Anakin, it's completely different. She's way more open with him, because she loves him and feels comfortable exploring new things with him. And honestly, Anakin doesn't really care. He's completely infatuated with her and just wants to be with her._**

 ** _This is my last chapter before the epilogue. I know, it's not exactly a really long story, but as I've told you, I am writing a sequel, which will be set about 5 months after this, deep in the crux of Padme and Anakin's long-distance relationship._**

 ** _Enjoy xx_**

* * *

Morning light drifted into the room, softly gracing Padme's face, bathing her in its warm embrace. She roused, blinked her eyes a few times and yawned, not ready to wake up from her dreams. Such pleasant dreams they had been; of Anakin, of her, of a life free from worries or responsibilities or duties. Of course, it had been only a dream, a figment of her imagination, her longing heart. Her actual reality was far, far different.

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Anakin's sleeping form. The sun danced across his bare chest, casting him in a glorious, golden hue, which caught the yellow of his hair. She admired him fondly, how peaceful and beautiful he was. One arm was wrapped protectively around her body, the other flung up behind his head lazily. His head was tilted away from her, lips parted, eyes fluttering beneath closed lids as he dreamed. Padme enjoyed looking at him. He was so stunning, so innocent and vulnerable in that moment and yet there was a silent strength to him, possibly due to the way he pressed her possessively against him.

Her eyes traveled lower, raked over his naked chest that rose and fell steadily, his hard, chiselled abdomen giving way to sharp, angled hipbones that disappeared underneath crumpled sheets. A part of her longed to pull back the covers and expose him to her inquisitive gaze, but she refrained. She respected his dignity.

One of his legs was bent, angled off to the side and the other stretched out, so long that his foot hung off the end of his bed. It was adorable, seeing him spread out like that, all lean, lanky limbs and hard sinew. Curiously, she stretched out her own legs, laughing at how short they were compared to his tall frame. Even though Padme had always hated been so short, she thrilled at how small and delicate Anakin made her feel, so soft and elegant and _feminine._ Padme Naberrie was all about equal rights for men and women, about breaking gender stereotypes, and while she stuck by those ideals, she still enjoyed being worshipped by Anakin.

 _Worshipped._ Yes, he had definitely worshipped her. She could still _feel_ his mouth on her, dragging up her body, causing her such wonderful pleasure, could still _feel_ him inside her, could _hear_ her name tumbling from his lips in desperate lust. Her cheeks flushed at the memories, so clear in her mind and she drew her gaze to where Anakin's modesty was covered, wondering if he was thinking about her. From the way it was tented, she had to assume so. She bit her lip with a smirk. _Oh,_ she had definitely dreamt about him.

Aching to feel his hot skin under her fingers, she reached out slowly, stroking the side of his face with light tenderness, not wanting to wake him but unable _not_ to touch him. He was so smooth to touch, the skin still holding some of that adolescent plumpness, but mostly, he was firm, hard. Her fingers ghosted over his lips, admiring how full they were, like a child's, but then she remembered what he had done with them and the childlike connotations disappeared. Anakin Skywalker was definitely no child.

It was then that Anakin's lips curved into a smile, clearly indicating that he had been awake the whole time and just chose to pretend, before his eyes snapped open, staring straight at Padme. They twinkled, mischievous and teasing, before he raised his eyebrows at her. "Enjoying the view?"

She grinned back at him slyly. "Well, you didn't give me much of a chance to enjoy it last night, so I thought I'd make the most of it."

The hand on her hip began to rub up and down gently, before resting in the dip of her waist. "I didn't hear you complaining much," he quipped, winking at her, and she flushed in spite of herself.

"Anakin!" she scolded, but he merely laughed at her reaction, took her hips in his large hands and pulled her on top of him. Their lips met in a kiss, tender and sweet and lovely, and Padme twirled his hair around her fingers affectionately.

They pulled away and Anakin cupped her cheek, thumb rubbing over her lips. "You're beautiful," he told her honestly, his voice raw with adoration.

She rolled her eyes at him. How could he think she looked beautiful right now? Even though she hadn't seen her reflection, she knew that her eyes would be red and puffy from falling asleep whilst crying and her hair was half-dry, half-damp, her curls matted and tangled and lank. Definitely not beautiful. "Anakin, I'm a mess."

He laughed, "true," and when she frowned at him, he added, completely sincere, "but a beautiful mess." Before she could argue, he pulled her back down to his lips, tongue brushing against her teeth before entering her, tasting her and she sighed against him. Padme would never get used to this. " _My_ beautiful mess," he whispered tenderly against her lips and her heart constricted tightly at his emphasis on _my_. His. Yes, she was his, utterly and completely his, in every way. Every fibre of her being belonged to Anakin, and she found that she didn't care one bit. His possessiveness thrilled her.

"Yours, huh?" she raised an eyebrow, but smiling happily all the same.

He nodded, hands coming up to rest on her hips, before sliding up and down her back, trailing along the ridges of her spine, sending flames licking across her skin. "You're mine now. I'm never letting you go."

She shuddered at his earnestness, finding herself strangely aroused by this side of him. "I don't belong to anyone, Anakin Skywalker," she told him, though she knew it to be a lie.

"Not true," he retorted, almost growled, voice rough and dark and heady and she shuddered again. "You're mine and you know it."

When he kissed her again, it was no longer sweet. It was passionate and demanding and intoxicating and Padme had no choice but to surrender to it, to give into this frightening yet wonderful hold he had over her. She couldn't help herself. She was addicted to him. His lips pressed drugging kisses to her jaw, her neck, causing her to squirm against his torso, silently telling him she needed him. When had she become so wanton?

Anakin grinned at her defeat, kicking off his sheets so that he was completely naked underneath her, and the intense look in his eyes made her melt. "Y-you're going to have to l-let me go sometime," she stumbled, struggling to keep her voice under control. "I-I'm going back to Boston today."

His fingers found their way into her hair, stroking her half-damp locks, never leaving her gaze. His expression grew sad as he remembered what the day held, how they would be separated by agonising distance. "When?"

It took more will than Padme was prepared for to tear her eyes away from his to rest on the clock beside his bed. It was eight-thirty. "I have to leave by eleven," she sighed miserably. "My flight is at twelve-forty."

Anakin smirked. "Then we still have plenty of time."

"Time for what?"

His response was to grip her hips, lifting her up and hovering her over his prominent erection. "This." He dropped her down on him and his sudden invasion made her cry out in surprise. It was a little painful, sitting on him like this when she wasn't as wet, or as ready, as she would have liked. But she would be lying if she didn't enjoy it. Her body was moulded to his shape in the most glorious way, as though they were made for each other.

Anakin sat up, pressing his chest against hers and holding her upright, as the shock of his cock inside her made her unsteady. "You feel _incredible,_ " he told her softly, resting his forehead against hers. All she could too was bite her lip and nod. It was only now she realised how naïve she had been in regards to intimacy. Being like this, it was so different to anything she had experienced before, and it made her nervous. Did Anakin expect her to do… other things? Would he want her to be as adventurous and carefree as he was?

Sensing her anxiety, he kissed her sweetly, flashing her a gorgeous, reassuring smile. Taking her hips in his hands, he gently rose her off of him, and she could feel every inch of his hardened length slip out of her. "Like this," he instructed, all soft and tender and loving, pulling her back on top of him. Padme realised that Anakin didn't care how much she knew, or what she had done before. All he wanted was her, and she suddenly wanted to learn _everything_ there was to learn. To familiarise herself with his body.

"Teach me," she asked him, shy but firm, "show me."

His eyes sparkled at her words and he suddenly claimed her mouth, clutching her too him with such passion that she melted. "I love you, _god –_ I fucking love you," he muttered between kisses. "So much, Padme… you have no _fucking_ idea."

She trilled a laugh as she began to rise and fall over him, using her feet as platforms, gripping Anakin's shoulders for support. "I think I have some idea."

He guided her every move over him, gentle, keeping a slow, steady pace to let her grow accustomed to this new position. "You're the most amazing person I've ever met," he said quietly, with steadfast honesty, rubbing circles on her hipbones as encouragement. "I can't get enough of you."

"You sure know what to say to get a girl into bed," she teased, but the way he froze against her, stilling her hips, made her realise that she'd said something wrong.

"That-s – that's what you think?" His voice was quiet and trembling and he stared off to the side, but not before she could see the obvious hurt in his eyes.

"No, _no_ , Ani," she insisted, taking his face in her hands, his beautifully expressive face, forcing him to look at her.

"I mean it, Padme. I love you," he told her, firmly, full of such earnestness and compassion that her heart swelled with affection. She couldn't possibly love this man more if she tried. "I love being around you. You're so – _light_ , like the sun… like air. I can't – I get… _unstable_ sometimes and y-you, you ground me. You make me feel… stable, calm. And I – I need you."

His intensity overwhelmed her, the way he expressed his feelings so awkwardly and yet so assuredly, not bothered if he was being too forward or if he was frightening her. Padme admired that about him. Anakin truly was unlike any man she'd ever met, and she was falling deeper and deeper in love with him every second.

Face in her hands, she kissed him hard, because _god_ only knew that she needed him, too, desperately, as powerful as his need for her. "Oh, _Anakin,_ " she almost sobbed with love for him. " _You complete me._ "

And then he was holding her tightly against him, lifting his hips up to meet hers as she rocked above him, whimpering at the sheer pleasure of it all. She threw her head back, exposing her neck to him, and he took advantage of it, running his mouth all over her, marking her with his lips and tongue and teeth, suckling at the hollow of her neck. It wasn't long until they both reached their release, crying out each other's names and then falling clumsily, exhausted, over each other. Anakin's hands traced the length of her spine in a delightfully gentle way as she rested her chin on his chest, hands propped up underneath, feeling the familiar, thud of his heart.

"I don't want you to leave," he told her after a while.

"I know," she pressed a kiss to the hot, sweaty skin of his chest and the sat up, moving off of him and pulling the covers up to give herself some modesty. The air grew serious, solemn and Anakin glanced at her in confusion. It was that time, the time to have the conversation she had been dreading. Their future was so unclear, and no amount of love could change that. "Anakin," she began with a sigh. "We… we need to figure this out."

He laughed and shook his head at her. "What's there to figure out? We love each other. It's that simple."

She frowned at him. "You know that's not what I'm talking about." Trust Anakin to make light of something important. "This is serious. We're going to be in different places. I mean, what does this _mean_ for us?"

"We'll make it work," was his reply, simple, accompanied by a casual shrug that made Padme fume. It was not that simple. It just _wasn't._

"How, Anakin?" she asked him, growing angry. "How are we just going to _make it work?_ You do realise that we will be in _two different cities!_ "

Scowling, Anakin sat up and leant back against the bedhead, his eyebrows knitted together. "Jesus, Padme, why is everything so complicated with you?"

"Why can't you take anything _seriously_ , Anakin?" she snapped back, not wanting to deal with his attitude. "Is this all some sort of joke to you or something?"

"I am taking this seriously, Padme," he growled in frustration, eyes darkening. "I just don't understand what we need to sort out. I mean, we can call each other, or Skype or whatever. It's not like we won't be able to communicate. And then, you know, we could arrange to visit each other on, like, weekends or something. It's not such a big deal."

Padme blinked, not believing what she was hearing. He had _actually_ thought about this, about how their relationship would play out. That was… endearing. His forethought surprised her and she smiled, bemused by it all.

"What?" he asked, frowning.

"You," she took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. "You actually thought about this."

His expression softened and he brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing each of her fingertips gently. "Of course I thought about it," he told her with a smirk. "Why the tone of surprise?"

Beaming at him, she shifted closer, snuggling into his side, and he wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You're constantly surprising me, Ani," she remarked, fondly.

Taking her chin between his fingers, her brought her in for a tender kiss, lips gently moving against hers in such a familiar way. "You are the most important thing in my life," he told her seriously. "I'm not going to lose you, Padme. Distance or not." She gave him a teary smile, feeling undeserving of his insurmountable affection for her, but thrilling in it all the same. "We'll be alright."

She nodded, before tucking her head into the crook of his neck, entwining her fingers with his. They stayed that way for a little while, relishing this time together, because the future was uncertain and who knew when they would be together again. But, for the first time, Padme wasn't worried. Their love was strong, so strong that it could not be broken by anything, not even distance. They would be alright. They would make it work.

When she eventually summoned the will to leave Anakin's embrace, he hugged her close, stroking her hair, before pulling back and smiling down at her. "This isn't goodbye, Padme," he told her, cupping her cheek and soothing her anguish. "This is more a… _see you soon._ " She laughed at that, a tearful laughter, but she was happy, happier than she had ever felt.

The rest of the day was filled with teary goodbyes, as her mother drove her to the airport. She would miss her mother; she would miss Ahsoka and Obi-wan and, of course, she would miss Anakin.

"You look well, Padme," her mother noted with a smile. "You're almost glowing. Is there something I should know?"

Padme beamed at her mother. "I'm _perfect_ , mom," she replied, honestly.

Jobal grinned, almost cheekily. "So, I take it you finally slept with Anakin then?"

Blanching, Padme swallowed, eyes wide. "… How did you - ?"

"I'm your mother, Padme," Jobal answered, raising her eyebrows. "I know everything." Then, chuckling slightly, she added, "you might want to call your sister. We had a bet going, you see."

"You what?" Padme cried, insulted. How could her mother have done something so… she expected that type of thing from Sola. Her sister had constantly meddled in her love life. But her own mother. She felt betrayed.

"It's was Sola's idea. She was convinced that you two would get together before the end of the break. You should tell her of her victory."

Rolling her eyes, Padme groaned inwardly. Sometimes she hated her sister. "I'm going to kill her," she sighed, though she couldn't keep the grin off her face.

They arrived at the airport and Padme wished her mother farewell, promising to visit her more, apologising that she hadn't done so in the past. It was teary but beautiful and Padme had never felt so _right_. Everything was just falling into place.

As she got ready to board, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she grinned as she saw a message from Anakin. It was nothing special, no dramatic feelings of love, no soppy, poetic phrases. Just three, simple words.

 **See you soon.**

Padme wore that smile all the way to Boston.


	20. Epilogue

_**A/N: So, before I do anything I just wanted to say that you are all extremely perceptive and give me WAY too much credit. I'm really not that good at plot twists. I'm sorry to disappoint, but no, Padme is NOT pregnant. I made an error (yes, I got caught up in the moment and forgot the whole contraception thing - silly me), but I want to make it clear that no adorable little twins will be appearing in this story... not yet anyway. Honestly though, the amount of reviews telling me that it would make a good twist actually had me second guessing my whole plan - yes, I have a plan. But it would ruin it, so I just left it alone. So, yeah, I'm sorry.**_

 _ **Back to my plan. I'm thinking this is going to be a 3-4 part Saga (I can't really believe it myself). I actually do have a big grand plan for everything and I really hope you stick by me, because I've never had this much support for a story before and honestly, I don't want you guys to leave me *sniff sniff* (god I'm such a sap. I think it's because I've had too much wine tonight...)**_

 ** _On a more serious - yet still sappy - note, I want to thank you all for the constant support. It's so wonderful to have people appreciate your work, because I've put so much time and effort into this story. Thank you so much. I LOVE YOU. (yep, definitely had too much wine)._**

 ** _This epilogue is just a little bit of fluff. No cliff-hangers. No twists. Just fluff. I feel like they deserve that though, after the emotional rollercoaster I put them through, right? And, it sets up the scene for how their relationship will play out in the sequel._**

 ** _So, for the last time, enjoy! xx_**

* * *

Padme was nervous. Incredibly nervous. She shouldn't have been. It was only Anakin. But her skin was crawling with anticipation, her heart was thumping unnaturally loud against her ribcage, her breath quickened. She squirmed as she stood there, waiting for him. It had been two weeks. Two _agonisingly painful_ weeks of broken communication over the phone, trying to catch each other at the right time, Wi-Fi cutting out as they Skyped in the library. She longed to see his face, to feel his strong arms around her, feel his lips against hers, his hair between her fingers. She'd missed him.

Of course, she knew it was expected. They were being foolishly optimistic if they thought they'd be with each other every weekend. Anakin had just started university and there had been orientations and parties and functions and his first week of classes. He had been incredibly busy and couldn't manage to get away, even though he'd apologised profusely to her, full of disappointment and remorse.

Padme didn't blame him. She had been busy as well. First week back at Harvard and she had been hit with two assessment pieces and a heavy amount of readings. And then there were her friends, wanting to catch up, go out for drinks, party, have coffee. It had been a hectic two weeks of socialising, and as much as Padme had enjoyed it, she couldn't wait to spend the weekend curled up with Anakin.

Her eyes flicked to the monitor. The flight from Chicago was landing in ten minutes. Ten minutes. Ten minutes until she saw him again. She bit her lip in anticipation, her hands fiddling in front of her, unable to keep still.

Those ten minutes had been the longest of Padme's life. They ticked by at a torturously slow pace, though it didn't help that she kept flicking her eyes at the time on the screen every three seconds. Time tended to take a while when you stared at it; like watching grass grow. Eventually, though it felt like an eternity, his plane came into land, and soon the doors were opening and people were filing out of the terminal. She bounced on her toes, scanning every face, searching for a glimpse of him.

And then there he was. Suddenly, there was no one else in the room. It was just him and her. He ducked his head as he walked out the door, his blue eyes searching until he found hers. A wild, gorgeous grin broke out on his face, and it made her laugh madly, tears brimming in her eyes as she took him in, all lean and beautiful and real. She ran to him, not caring who was watching, and he barely had time to put his bag down before she launched herself into his arms, clinging to him desperately as though he was going to disappear. Her face was pressed against his chest and his arms came around her and she was _home,_ caught up in the smell of him, that heady _Anakin_ smell, and the feel of him, his strong arms, his hard body, his frantically beating heart.

They stayed wrapped up in each other for a long time, simply relishing in being in each other's arms again. Anakin had tucked her head underneath his chin, his hands rubbing up and down her back as she sobbed against his chest. When they pulled back, he beamed down at her and she laughed, feeling so insanely happy, because she had missed that smile. She had missed how it warmed her from the inside out, how it made her feel light and fuzzy. _Infinite._

He cupped her cheek, gazing at her fondly and she reached up to cover his hand, smiling up at him. "Ani," she said through tears. "I've missed you."

He bent and took her lips with his own and she could have died because _oh,_ the feeling of his lips was like nothing else in the world. It was not passionate, or intoxicating or anything that made her weak at the knees, because they had plenty of time for that later. It was sweet and tender and lovely, and she could feel his unyielding affection for her seeping out of him, and she curled her fingers back into his hair, where they belonged. Their lips stayed locked together for a while, reacquainting themselves with the familiarity of it all, before they broke apart, foreheads pressed together.

"It's alright now, Padme," he whispered, grinning down at her. "I'm home."

And even though he was miles from his home, in a state he'd never been to before, Padme's heart fluttered in her chest because she knew exactly what he meant. Home was here, together, in her arms. And she was home, too.


End file.
